


Heart by Heart

by totheendoftheworldortime79



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Inspired by a Movie, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-03 22:38:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 183,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2890526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totheendoftheworldortime79/pseuds/totheendoftheworldortime79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Nolan, rich, famous, heiress to Nolan Tech, frustrated by her life, unable to get anyone to take her seriously as a businesswoman, flees her New York life for Hawaii. A chance meeting with grad student-turned-mechanic Killian Jones just might change her life forever. If she lets it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr prompt and inspired by the move Ever After. Enjoy!

“We're about a half hour out, Miss Nolan.”

Emma scowled as the intercom crackled, her eyes blinking against the bright Hawaii sun, which was impressive because the windows of the limo were tinted. She fumbled for the button and tried not to sound ungrateful as she acknowledged him. Her mother would have practically bitten the guy's head off for disturbing her nap, but Emma was _not_ her mother.

She'd run all the way to Hawaii to prove just how  _not_ like the famous Mary Margaret Blanchard-Nolan she was.

Emma stretched out in the back of limo, her body tight from sleeping awkwardly. After the very long flight from New York to LA and the even  _longer_ flight from LA to Honolulu, Emma was beyond jet lagged. When she heard how long it would take to drive from the airport to her resort on the North Shore, Emma nearly threw up her hands and considered going home, but then she realized that home was several time zones away. 

She pulled out her phone and sighed. There were over a dozen calls from her mother, no doubt all of them shrieking about Emma being irresponsible and/or ungrateful. There were two from her father, one with a message. She listened to that, her dad's calm warm voice comforting her. He didn't berate her for leaving, merely wished her a safe trip. She'd call him back when she wasn't so exhausted. She deleted messages from her mother and several of her “friends.” Since they were all people who hung around her because of her money and her influence with her father, they weren't real friends. Well, all except Elsa anyway. They'd known each other since they were children and Emma loved her like the sister she never had. But Elsa would have wanted to come with her and Emma just wanted to be alone.

She was so  _sick_ of the game she had to play in New York. She was twenty five years old, had a degree in business and had no job. No one would take her seriously as a businesswoman, let alone  _hire_ her. All they saw was the money, money her father had made after marrying an heiress. So rather than working, Emma got dragged to charity events and endless parties with shallow insufferable people. About the only opinion people wanted from her was how she felt about Stella McCartney's latest collection. The irony of that wasn't really lost on her.

But then again, Stella wasn't a musician like  _her_ dad.

Emma had always been a daddy's girl; some of her earliest memories involved playing hide and seek in her father's huge office. She worshipped him. David Nolan was the CEO of one of the highest grossing Fortune 500 companies, managing to take his wife's millions and turn it into billions. Nolan Tech was on the cutting edge of its field and expanding all the time. Emma wanted to do something like that, to make things that changed the world.

But almost three years out of college, it was starting to feel like she would never get the chance.

Less than twenty four hours ago, Emma was in her wing of her family's penthouse listening to her mother blather on about Robert Gold's charity gala in the fall (it was four months away, why was this her problem? Not to mention that Emma hated the man. And his son.) and trying to pick out a new handbag.

She wasn't sure what had made her do it, but Emma had finally had enough. As soon as her mother was gone, she called for her family's private plane and started packing a bag. At first she didn't even know where she was going as long as it was  _away._ But when she landed in in Los Angeles, she knew it wasn't far enough away. She'd neglected to bring her passport in her haste to get out of the city, so she opted for the next best thing: Hawaii. A few calls and she was all set, mildly disgusted how easy it was. But money talked just as easily in Hawaii as it did in New York.

When the limo finally arrived at the resort, Emma got out, not waiting for the valet to open her door. “My bags are in the trunk,” she said over her shoulder, heading through the glass doors into the lobby.

It was large and ornate; the furniture vintage and plush. She expected no less, considering how much this place cost. Her low heels thunked on the marble floor; Emma noticed people staring at her but she assumed it was because she was an attractive blonde traveling alone rather than anyone actually knowing who she was. She was counting on that relative anonymity to make this trip bearable.

Emma walked right up to the desk, smiling at the clerk, a short man in his forties. He reminded her a bit of those garden gnomes that normal people used to decorate their front yards, what with the beard and short stature.

“Welcome to Crocodile Bay, Miss...”

“Nolan, Emma Nolan. I believe I have a reservation?”

The man—whose name was Doc apparently—consulted his computer. “Ah yes, here it is. Ocean bungalow, number 205. How long will you be staying with us?”

“I don't know. Is that a problem?”

“Certainly not.” He entered a bit more information into the system and handed her back her credit card. “I'll have your bags delivered promptly. Would you like one of our drivers take you to your bungalow?”

Emma suppressed a sigh; she was in no mood to walk. “That would be great, thanks.”

“It's no trouble. Now if you'll just sign here and here, we'll get you on your way.”

Emma scribbled her signature and accepted the key Doc gave her. She saw one of the bellmen picking up her bags and loading them into a golf cart. “Careful with those!” she said, wincing as he all but _threw_ them around.

“Not to worry, Miss Nolan,” Doc said helpfully. “Will's one of our best.”

“He better be,” Emma muttered under her breath. She didn't have anything especially irreplaceable in her bags, but she didn't like having her things tossed around like trash either. She climbed into the golf cart and waited for her driver. The questionable bellman came to the driver's side; he was tall, dark hair, clean shaven. He looked about eighteen, maybe nineteen. Probably summer time help then. They didn't speak. He merely put the cart into drive and headed off in what Emma presumed to be the direction of her bungalow. She made a mental note to rent a car as soon as possible; she had no desire to walk along those twisty curvy roads that led to her bungalow.

She'd do it later. After she had a nap. And perhaps one of those fruity umbrella drinks. It was Hawaii after all.

Her driver pulled to a gentle stop in front of 205. Silently, he swung his long legs out of the cart and went to get her bags. Emma followed suit, walking up to her door. The outside of the bungalow was cute, painted in blues and greens; it looked a bit like a fairy tale cottage. A stubby smokestack even blew grayish (probably fake) smoke. The only modern touch was the door handle, a standard electronic key card set up. She swiped her card and pushed open the door.

To be honest, Emma was a bit taken aback by what she found inside. Her cursory examination of the photos on the website did not really do the place justice. It was a perfect blending of old fashioned and modern, with plush wooden framed furniture. This particular bungalow seemed to be princess themed, but not in an overtly girly way. Probably more Elsa's style than hers, but she liked it. There was a small but standard kitchen toward the back and a hallway that led to the bedroom.

“Bags, Miss?”

Emma started, completely forgetting that she wasn't alone. “Um, in the bedroom. Thanks.” It wasn't her fault if her eyes were drawn to the ass presented to her as the teenager walked away. Those uniforms were far tighter than they had any good reason to be. _Down, girl. You're here to relax, not hook up._

But who would know? No one knew her here. At least she hoped not. If she happened to be out and found an attractive man, why _couldn't_ she? At the very least, she was above going after the boy barely out of high school. She did have standards.

Emma put her driver and his ass out of her mind, returning to exploring her new digs. The fridge was fully stocked; there were some overly _healthy_ things in there, Emma would have to find some junk the next time she went out. She was tired of eating tofu and things without gluten. She was fairly athletic, had the body to show for it. She didn't _need_ to diet or do anything drastic. If she wanted to have to occasional candy bar then she would.

Her driver finished with her bags and hung around by the door. It took Emma a moment to figure out what he wanted and she groaned inwardly. She had zero cash on her. It just wasn't a habit of hers; she was far too wary as a jaded New Yorker. But this wasn't New York and the boy no doubt expected a tip. Stamping down on tendril of panic, she scooped up an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter.

“Thanks for everything,” she said, handing the boy the apple. “Have a good day.”

He eyed her suspiciously for a moment, then nodded, spinning on his heel and heading out the door. Emma didn't even think about him again until she got to her bedroom and saw greasy smudges _all over her luggage_. Thick black grease. From a car. All over her thousand dollar luggage. She would be sure to call the front desk about that; an apple was far better than that boy deserved. What had the clerk said his name was? Walt? No. Wilbur? God no. Wil...somthing. Wait... _Will_. That was his name.

She'd call later. Because all of a sudden all of her traveling caught up with her. Her limbs were heavy, her movements—once the rage had drained—slow and sluggish. Yeah, she'd let the boy finish his shift, then report him. Right now, Emma needed a nap.

She striped out of her dirty traveling clothes and dug in her bag for something to sleep in. She found her NYU t-shirt that her mother hated and a tiny pair of gym shorts. She slipped them on and crawled right onto the bed.

She was out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

 

Killian tossed the apple he'd been given into the underbrush. An _apple?_ Seriously? Just who did that woman think she was? Yeah, she was attractive. Pretty and blonde, green eyes that sparkled. Full kissable lips. Not that he'd been paying attention. Besides, she wasn't his type anyway.

_You really need to get laid, Jones._

Killian ignored the voice of his friend Robin and started the damned golf cart. He was only working  _this_ shift in  _this_ job as a favor to his other friend Will. That damnable Doc was so blind and tone deaf, he couldn't tell one sarcastic English bloke from another. Will Scarlet had shown up at Killian's place that morning with a wicked hangover, practically begging him to take his shift as a bellman. Killian hadn't been a bellman since his first summer at the resort, having long since graduated to working in the garage.

Speaking of which, it sounded like the golf cart he was driving was in desperate need of a tune up. He made a note to mention it to Robin the following day. They should probably try to do all of them at once.

Killian Jones had been working at the Crocodile Bay Resort since just after his first year at the University of Hawaii. Seven years later he was still there, working in the summers to earn money for his master's degree in marine biology. He'd finished his bachelor's in record time, three years, but the master's was slower. He had to find funding for his research; his full ride scholarship didn't cover it. So he worked. And it was a good job, paid well (as those things went); he had a little studio apartment back in town.

Working and studying also kept his mind off the real reason he'd come all the way to bloody  _Hawaii_ to go to school. Still UH had one of the best marine biology departments in the world and he had a promise to keep. So what if he was half a world away from anyone he'd ever known. Since almost everyone closest to him was dead, it didn't seem like that big of a sacrifice. And he'd made friends here, both at school and at the resort. Every summer almost felt like coming home, with Robin's contagious laugh and Will's adventures with the fairer sex. Other than those few close friends, Killian mostly kept to himself, didn't date much (to Robin's never ending chagrin, the man was always trying to set him up); he was more focused on his studies. 

Occasionally the itch became too  _itchy_ to ignore and he'd spend an evening with Will, each of them leaving with a different lass. No strings, got the job done, he carried on. He just didn't see the point in settling down when he had so much unfinished business.

Who would want to tie themselves to a barely making it grad student?

No, this was better. He'd finish his degree next year and get a job. A real job. One where he didn't get grease on his hands, under his fingernails, in his hair. He was the best mechanic there but he wanted more out of his life. He wanted to be able to actually  _use_ that boat that was tied up at the marina. 

Liam would want that.

Shaking off the thought, Killian headed back to the Big House. Surely, there was another stuffy oblivious rich person who needed their bags dragged somewhere.

* * *

Emma woke up in the dark, a bit perplexed. It took her a few moments to get her bearings. Planes, limo,  _Hawaii_ . Right. She stretched like a cat, her stomach rumbled loudly. Food it was then. She padded out to the kitchen, hoping to find something simple to eat. She didn't have a lot of experience  _cooking_ , strictly speaking. She'd learned a few basic things involving a hot plate in college, but even then she and her friends spent more time going out to eat in the restaurants around NYU than actually making food for themselves. All of her friends were like her: rich, entitled, without a care in the world except for having enough time to study amidst all the partying.

Emma was far more dedicated to her studies than most of her friends, but Elsa still managed to drag her to some pretty wild parties. Most of which usually landed them in the tabloids.

Emma managed to find some cheese and crackers along with a banana from her fruit bowl. She munched on them as she scrolled through her phone. There were another seventeen missed calls. Ten of them were from her mother. The other seven were from Elsa; her last message sounded a bit frantic so she decided to call her and put the poor girl out of her misery.

Elsa picked up on the fourth ring. “Emma! Oh my _god. Where are you?_ I've been so worried. Your mom's like _freaking_ out.”

Emma sighed. “Els, I'm pretty sure that her definition of freaking out and _my_ definition of freaking out are different.”

“Probably true.” There was a sound like clothes shuffling. Was she _in her closet?_ Elsa tended to retreat when she was nervous and afraid. Suddenly Emma felt really bad for worrying her friend. “But seriously, Emma, where are you? It's not like you to just up and take off.”

“I'm in Hawaii, Elsa. I don't know when I'm coming home.”

“ _What?”_

Emma winced. “I know. But it was the farthest I could get without my passport. And I needed to get out of there, Els. I couldn't take it anymore.”

There was more shuffling; Emma definitely recognized it as Elsa's huge closet. Girl was a clotheshorse if Emma ever met one. But it was one of her adorable quirks. “Okay, I've disentangled myself from the closet. Tell me everything.”

So she did. She told her about the discussion with her mother, Emma's own dissatisfaction, her frustration with life in New York. Some of it Elsa knew already, most of it she didn't. Emma hadn't wanted to hurt her feelings. She loved Elsa like a sister; their parents were close as well. But Elsa was perfectly happy with their life as it was.

“Oh, Emma. I wish you would have come to me. I'd have gone with you.”

“I know, which it way I didn't tell you. I think I need this time alone. Away from people who know me. Does that make sense?”

“A little. But if you need me there, or need _anything_ else, I'll be on the first plane. You know that, right?”

“What about Anna?”

If was as if she could  _hear_ Elsa roll her eyes. Anna was Elsa's younger—much more talkative—sister. They were close, always had been, but Anna also had a tendency to speak without thinking, which tended to her in trouble. Especially with parents. And the tabloids. “Emma, you know I love my sister, but can you imagine the trouble? I wouldn't even be on the plane before there was a headline in the  _Post.”_

“Isn't she still dating that hockey player? Kristoff...something?”

“Yeah, something about covers it. I still can't pronounce his name. But he's nice. And good for her.” Emma could tell Elsa was smiling. She just couldn't help it when people she loved were happy. It was strange considering Elsa had no one special herself. And she _should_. Elsa was beautiful with long white blonde hair and queenly delicate features. People often said she moved like a ballerina, dainty and delicate. But Emma knew better. Elsa was tough; they'd taken mixed martial arts lessons together as teenagers.

Emma tapped her finger on the counter. “Maybe you could enlist Kristoff to distract her or something. If I needed you. Which right now, I don't.”

“Are you _sure_ , Emma? Isn't Hawaii a little extreme?”

“Maybe I need a little extreme.” She paused. “Elsa, I'm _fine_. I promise. If anything changes, you will be my first call. I think I just need some time to myself. Some sand, some sun, away from the city.”

“Very well. But don't forget to check it every once in a while, okay? I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Elsa.” They hung up soon after. Emma ate her banana thoughtfully, contemplating her next call. She had no intention of calling her mother; there would be no point, other than to give the woman a reason to yell. But she did want to speak to her dad. Perhaps he could smooth things over with her mother for a while. The problem was it was the middle of the night in New York.

At the very least she could leave him a message, let him know she got to her destination in one piece.

David picked up on the second ring. “Emma?”

“Um, hi, dad.” She sounded a bit awkward, much less sure of herself than when she'd spoken to Elsa.

“Did you get to where you were going?” he asked calmly.

“Yeah, yeah, I did.”

“Where'd you end up?”

Emma laughed. That was her dad, no nonsense. God, she loved him for it. “Hawaii, on the North Shore.”

“Crocodile Bay?”

Emma's brow creased. “Yeah, how'd you know?”

“Your mother thought about vacationing there once, but decided it was too far from New York.”

“Of course she did.” It came out more bitter than she intended.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”

“No, it's not, but I don't really want to get into it.” Unlike Elsa, what was bothering her _would_ really hurt her father's feelings. And she didn't want to do that. She could sort this out on her own.

“I know she doesn't have the greatest way of showing it, but your mother loves you, Emma.”

Emma sighed. “I know. But she just...makes it so  _hard_ sometimes, you know?”

“I know. But she lost her mother when she was young. She just wants what's best for you.”

“Dad, I'm twenty five. I should be old enough to figure that out for myself.”

“Take whatever time you need. We'll be here when you come home. I'll talk to her, Emma.”

“Thanks, Dad. Love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

When she hung up, Emma was exhausted again. Clearly she wasn't yet over her jetlag. Her stomach was still rumbling, so she ordered something from the Big House as they called it and curled up in the plush couch, flipping channels. She found the special resort station which had little clips of all the recreation the resort offered. Besides the beaches and pools, there was surfing, kayaking, golf, tennis, horseback riding, snorkeling, biking and hiking trails, and countless other things. How could anyone be  _bored_ , she wondered. It was overwhelming to say the least.

She was interrupted by a knock on her door; her late dinner had arrived. She accepted it gratefully, still embarrassed not to be carrying cash. It was another thing to put on her list for the morning. Get her own car, do some shopping and get some cash. She'd be sure to leave something for her server at the main desk.

That Will guy was getting nothing but an earful from his supervisor.

Finally, at nine o'clock Hawaii time she went to bed. It had been a long, emotionally draining day.

* * *

“Killian, you got a sec?”

Killian sighed, wiping his hands on the greasy rag. He rolled out from under the golf cart he was working on. “Yeah, Robin? What's up?”

His boss—not that much older than him actually, perhaps five years older—looked concerned. “You feeling okay? You look a bit tired.”

“It's nothing, mate. Took a shift over at the Big House for Will again. You know how it is.”

“You gotta stop doing that, Killian. Will won't learn anything if you keep coddling him.”

“He was hungover, Robin. He practically passed out on my doorstep. I couldn't let him come to work like that. And it's not like I couldn't use the extra cash.” He was getting a bit impatient now, not overly thrilled with where this conversation was going.

“Just be careful, okay? If you get caught covering for him...”

“I know. Doom, gloom, my ass on the street. I get it.” The resort manager, Regina Mills, was a real bitch. She didn't tolerate laziness or missed shifts or even a _cold_. Unless you were dead or in jail, you were expected to be at work. The guests came first, especially if they were rich.

“How's that going, by the way? Your research, I mean.”

“Well, I managed to pay another month's rent of those traps, so well enough. As long as I can make it through the summer, I should be good.” He was studying the effect of the surfing competitions on the marine life of the North Shore. It was a prelude to what he really wanted to do, but it would get him his degree and that was all that really mattered at the moment.

“Still graduating in the spring?”

“Mate, I hope so. It's been a long slog.” Sometimes he felt like he would be a professional student all his life.

“What will you do after? Go back to England?”

Killian shook his head. “To be honest, I'm not really sure. There really isn't anything left for me back home.”

“I know what you mean.” Robin ran his hand through his hair. “After my Marian died...I just couldn't stay.”

Killian knew all too well what that felt like, but he didn't say so. Robin knew Killian was an orphan, no family, but he didn't know all the details. Only Will did. Killian intended to keep it that way. There was an awkward silence, as Killian cast about for something to say. But Robin rescued him.

“Well, anyway, the _reason_ I wanted you was to remind you again of my offer. To stay on after you graduate.”

Killian scratched nervously behind his ear. They'd had this conversation about a dozen times now, and it always ended the same. “Look, Robin, I'm  _grateful_ , but I didn't spend all this time in school to be a bloody mechanic.”

“You're the bloody best I've got.”

“I can train my replacement. He—or she—will be even better than me. I promise.”

Robin sighed. “Just think about it. At least until you've got a proper job in your field. I don't want to see you out on the street in this shite economy, mate.”

Killian looked away, touched by Robin's concern. “I appreciate that. I really do. Thanks.”

“So you'll consider it?”

“We'll see how my defense goes, but yes. I'll consider it.”

“Fair enough.” Robin clapped him on the back. “You should get back to work. Nice call on those golf carts, by the way. There's another batch of them coming in later. We still on for Saturday night?”

“England versus Brazil, wouldn't miss it, mate.” Robin had a huge theater size screen in his house; he got all the sports channels so they could indulge in their love of _real_ football. He liked the American game well enough, but sometimes he just missed kicking the ball around the pitch. He and Liam used to pretend they were playing for England when they were children. Liam almost made it, played at the under 18 level. 

That was before the accident. Killian hadn't been on a pitch since.

Killian got back to work, finishing the tune up on the golf cart. He took a brief lunch break, wanting to finish before his shift was over. Robin often said he was too conscientious for his own good. But if anyone understood just how important the work he did was, it was Killian.

After work he'd stop at the store from some food and make dinner for himself and Will, who was still sleeping at his house. At least Killian hoped he was sleeping and not drinking again.

* * *

Emma walked the two miles from her bungalow to the Big House, trying to enjoy the scenery. It was better than focusing on how much her feet were starting to hurt. Her shoes just were not made for this kind of wear and tear. In fact, none of the shoes she brought were. Another thing should would have to buy. Great.

Doc wasn't at the desk this morning; today there was another shortish man, this one appeared to be asleep until Emma tapped lightly on the counter.  _What the hell?_ Did this place have a monopoly on the vertically challenged?

“Yes?”

“Emma Nolan in bungalow 205?”

“Yes, Miss Nolan. What can we do for you?”

“Well, first I need to rent a car. That's quite a walk.”

The clerk—she saw now his name was Clarke—tapped on the keys. “We do have complimentary transportation, Miss Nolan. It is a rather large resort.”

“I know, I just like to drive myself.” She didn't get to drive in the city; this would be a nice change.

“Very well. We have a burgundy Lexus I think would be perfect for you.”

“Sounds good.” She looked around nervously. “Um, you wouldn't happen to have a map of the surrounding area, would you? I've never been here and I'd rather not get lost.”

“Each vehicle comes with GPS, Miss.”

“Oh, okay.” She didn't really know how to work the GPS, but how hard could it be? “Is there an ATM around here? I didn't have cash yesterday and I'd like to make sure that doesn't happen in the future.”

“It's around the corner.”

“Excellent. I'll be right back.” She hurried around the corner and got a hundred dollars in cash. That should be enough for a few days. When she got back to Clarke, she pushed a twenty at him. “Can you make sure my server from last night gets this? Cyrus, I think his name was.”

Clarke nodded. “Yes, I can do that. Was he the only one?”

Emma frowned. “Now that you mention it, I did have a problem yesterday. The driver who took me to my bungalow left  _grease_ all over my bags.”

“His name?”

“Will.”

Clarke scowled. “I see.”

“Troublemaker?”

“Not exactly. Doc is fond of him, but Doc always sees the best in people. I will report your issue, Miss Nolan.”

“Thanks.” She accepted the keys for the Lexus and headed in the direction that Clarke pointed. She got in, adjusted the mirrors and started the engine. The GPS was in the console panel to her right; it took some fiddling, some experimentation, but she did eventually get it to work. She let it guide her through the unfamiliar streets, taking note where things like the local Starbucks were. It took a surprisingly long time to get _off_ the resort property, to the small town beyond. Surely most of the people who lived there relied on the resort for work, she thought.

Emma found some sturdy walking boots at a quaint little boutique. It had lots of native Hawaiian art decorating the walls. She saw a few pieces that Elsa would love, but was afraid to ask if they were for sale. This wasn't New York, where  _everything_ was for sale, for the right price. Instead, she bought the shoes and cute seashell bracelet before moving on. A stop at the corner store got her some junk food and simple cookbook filled with recipes even  _she_ couldn't screw up. She was determined to become a bit more self sufficient on this trip, to live like a  _real_ person. Otherwise she should have just stayed at home.

Thanks to the GPS, Emma found her bungalow on her first try. Pleased with herself, she decided to reward herself with an afternoon on the beach. She took the thick resort book and her Kindle out with her, unable to decide. It was early in the summer yet, so the beach closest to her bungalow wasn't busy, only a handful of people were there enjoying the ocean breeze.

Emma loved the ocean; if she could, she would spend far more time at her family's Long Island estate than in the city. The Atlantic Ocean could be wild, storms coming in at a moment's notice. She loved to watch the surf strike the beach, see the frothing ocean, almost like it called to her. The Pacific was different, calmer somehow. She wondered if it would storm while she was there, if it would be different. The salty scent seemed cleaner here than at home. Fewer people, perhaps? Less smog? Probably. Either way, she liked it.

She came here with no agenda, no plan. Here she could simply exist. Read a book. Lay in the sun. Go surfing (god, that would be embarrassing!). Go hiking or biking. See a show. At the very least, clear her head, figure out what she really wanted out of her life. Could she make her parents understand that she felt stifled? That she didn't just want to sit around and go to parties. She wanted to make something of herself and she needed someone to give her a chance. She didn't know how long it would take, but she did know that she already felt lighter, happier. Here she was just Emma.

For the first week, that was pretty much how things went. She got up, made some breakfast, watched some TV. Headed out for some activity or other after lunch. Enjoy a class of wine under the moonlight, go to bed. She didn't talk to very many people; she got the occasional sympathetic glance, for being in this beautiful place alone no doubt. But that didn't bother her. After her last relationship, Emma wasn't really looking for another one. Not until she got her head screwed on straight anyway.

She checked in with Elsa a week after arriving, trusting her friend to keep her parents in the loop. Emma still hadn't spoken to her mother; the calls had stopped so she assumed her father had spoken to her. Good. Emma didn't want to get into a shouting match with her from six thousand miles away.

“You should take another trip into town,” Elsa advised, late one night. It was like four in the morning in New York; she was a trooper for being willing to talk at that insane hour. “See who you can see.”

“Elsa, I told you. I'm not going trolling for guys.”

“Why not? You're hot. You're in _Hawaii_ , Emma. No one knows you there, wasn't that the point? Who knows, you could wind up having a nice summer fling or something!”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Els, this isn't  _Grease_ and I am most definitely  _not_ Sandy.”

“No, you're Rizzo, I'm Sandy, everyone knows that.”

“Elsa...”

“I'm serious, Emma. I know you want to figure things out with your parents. I know you actually want to use that degree. I get that. But life is more than just work. Look at Anna. She's the happiest I've ever seen her.”

“With a hockey player, Elsa.”

“You know what that hockey player has done though? Put a smile on my sister's face. And he's actually funny once you get to know him.”

“I'll take your word for it. What about you? You seeing anyone?”

There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end of the phone. “No, but you know why.”

“Elsa...”

“Enough about me. Promise me you'll go out into town tomorrow. Flirt with someone. I'm living vicariously through you, Emma.”

“Okay, I promise.”

The next day, Emma stalled for as long as she could. But by mid afternoon, she couldn't wait any longer. She followed the GPS back into town, wondering where in the hell would be the best place to meet a random someone. She drove aimlessly, feeling dumber by the minute.  _God, I am so pathetic._

She pulled into Starbucks, hoping a cup of coffee would clear her head. Her skinny latte piled high with cream and cinnamon, she turned to head back toward the door. The shop was crowded; she nearly tripped on an old lady's bag. Emma was so distracted she didn't see the large shape coming through the door.

_CRASH._ Emma spilled her latte all over the newcomer; it splashed on him, on the floor, on her shoes. “Oh my god, I am  _so_ sorry!”

“Easy there, love. No harm done.” The smooth English accent stunned her; she looked up and just blinked stupidly. The man had a good six inches on her, inky black hair, intense blue eyes. A couple days growth clung to his chin, cheeks and upper lip. Too white teeth winked at her as he spoke; she wondered if he had a pretty smile. The man took her hand gently, easing her back into a standing position. “Let's get you cleaned up.”

“Me? There's cream all over you, buddy,” she said, her voice shaking.

“I've had worse.” The man accepted some napkins from a barrista who stepped forward brandishing a mop. The young lady hurried through, sopping up the excess as people huddled closer to the counter to give her space. Emma and her victim stepped deeper into the shop, trying to clean their own clothes. Once they came to a stop, Emma snatched the napkins away, balling them up and tugging hard on the man's shirt. She wanted to get him mopped up and get out of there before she suffered any more embarrassment.

“Lass, slow down,” the man said. “It's not a race.”

“I'm sorry,” she said again. “I'm not usually that clutzy.”

“As I said, no harm done.” He gently pried the soaked napkins out of her hands and laid them aside. He handed her a few more. “But if you wish to keep attacking my shirt, I'll not complain. Should I take it off? Perhaps that will facilitate things?” The way he said it...sounded absolutely _filthy_. What the hell?

“No, no,” she said hurriedly. “Almost done.” She mopped him up at best she could, then turned to herself. Her shoes were damp, but it hadn't soaked through to her socks, thank goodness. She stooped to get what she could then righted herself, having no idea what to do with her hands. And the man was still staring at her.

“You alright, love?”

“Yeah,” she said automatically.

“No, you're not.”

“Hmmm?”

“I promise I don't bite. Unless you ask nicely.”

That got her to laugh. “Is everything an innuendo with you?”

“Not everything.” He held out his hand. “Killian Jones.”

Emma reached out and shook it, noticing that his large hand nearly dwarfed hers. “Emma Nolan.”

There was no flicker of recognition in his eyes. It was nice. “So Miss Nolan, may I buy you another cup of coffee? To replace the one I ruined.”

“I think I spilled it on you, remember?”

“Aye, but I'd like to buy you another anyway.”

Emma smiled at him. “Sure.” Wouldn't Elsa be proud of her?

She got the answer to her earlier musing when she saw the thrilled look on his face and Emma groaned inwardly. The guy had dazzling smile, happy and dimpled. She was in trouble. Emma allowed him to guide her by the elbow to the line, trying to avoid looking directly at him. The air seemed to crackle around them as they waited; it was neither comfortable nor _un_ comfortable. She just hadn't been in many situations like this.

When it was their turn, Killian turned gallantly to her. “Anything you want, love.”

Inexplicably, Emma felt a flush creep up her neck. She hurriedly repeated her order from earlier, then listened as Killian made his own, iced coffee with a dash of expresso. “No tea?” she asked, as they accepted their cups.

Killian laughed. “You've never actually been to England, have you?”

Emma shrugged, nodding her thanks as he held the door open for her. “Once when I was little. My father took me on one of his business trips to London.”

Killian cocked his head. “A little girl on a business trip? What does your father do, make dolls?”

Emma laughed. “Not even close. He's the CEO of Nolan Tech.” Still no recognition, interesting.

“Did you go on this trip voluntarily? Or did you get foisted off on some nanny or other?” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice. Had she inadvertently struck a nerve?

“I was seven and no, there was no nanny. My dad and I were close when I was younger. I followed him everywhere.”

“Even to merry old England, apparently.” He didn't probe any deeper and for that Emma was grateful. She didn't feel like spilling her guts to a complete stranger. She was gathering that England was a bit of a sore topic for him as well.

“Well, Mr. Jones...”

“Killian, love.”

Emma nodded. “Killian. Thank you for the coffee. And I'm sorry about your shirt.” Now that they were outside, she could get a better look at the damage. The shirt had once been white, made of nylon. There was a small flag embroidered into the left shoulder. The shirt was a bit loose on him, but she could make out some of the lean toned muscle underneath, along with the dark hair peeking out of the V at the top.

“Nothing a little bleach can't cure. And I made a new friend.”

“You did?”

“Well, I hope so. If the lady would like to grace me with the pleasure of her company for the afternoon.”

Emma nearly spit out her coffee. Who _talked_ like that? He was like a modern day Mr. Darcy or something. “Sorry, did you just ask me out on a date?”

“Perhaps. Would you accept?”

She thought about Elsa's advice. _There's more to life than work._ And she came here to forget her troubles for a little while. What could it hurt? He was cute (okay, _gorgeous_ , she wasn't an idiot), seemed nice. He'd been ridiculously chill about her ruining his shirt. She sipped at her coffee, pretending to think. If something happened, she could take care of herself. “Okay.”

“Brilliant.” He flashed that dimpled grin at her again and she couldn't help but smile back. His smile was infectious. There was scar on his right cheek; it stretched when he smiled, but it only made him even more handsome, distinguished. “How do you fancy an afternoon on the beach?”

Emma bit her lip. “Um, I don't have my suit.”

“I didn't say anything about swimming, love, but I'll keep that in mind for next time.”

“Sure there'll be a next time?” she shot back.

“But of course.” He downed the rest of his iced coffee and threw the cup into the nearby trash can. “I promise, no swimming. I know a place off the beaten path, shall we say.”

“Okay.” Emma finished her own coffee and disposed of her cup. “What about my car?”

“Leave it here; I'll make sure we get you back to it.”

“Is that allowed?” Hardly anyone even drove in New York; it was virtually unheard of to just _leave_ your car sitting in a parking lot. Unless it was one with security and a valet.

Killian looked at her quizzically, but nodded. “Aye. I'm friends with the owner. I can clear it with her if that'll make you feel better.” He pulled out his phone, fingers flying over the screen. He nodded happily a few moments later. “There, all fixed. Tink promises not to tow your car.”

“Tink? Like _Tinkerbell?”_

Killian nodded. “Aye. Her parents were really into _Peter Pan_ at the time. Best not mention that around her though. She's quite sensitive about it.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” The issue of her car settled she looked at him expectantly. “Is this yours?” she asked, gesturing at the dark green Jeep.

“Aye,” he said proudly. “Rebuilt her from scratch.”

“You're a mechanic?” She didn't seen any grease on his hands. Killian went around to the passenger's side and held open the door for her. It had a skull and crossbones painted onto it.

“Only in my other life.” He shut the door firmly, then came around to the driver's side. He started the Jeep with a roar of the engine, which purred gently once it settled down.

“What's that mean?” Oh god, he wasn't an axe murderer or something, was he?

“It means, Miss Nolan, that most of the time I'm a struggling grad student.”

“Oh.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “And you can call me Emma.”

“Emma. It's a very pretty name.”

“That the line you're gonna go with?”

“Who says it's a line?”

“I say.”

“And you're an expert?”

Oh, he was quick. It had been a while since a boy spoke to her without either wanting to get into her pants or hoping she'd put in a good word with her dad. Killian, it seemed, just genuinely liked bantering with her. “Believe me, I've heard my fair share of lines.”

“Then they were all fools.”

“That so?”

“You're far too smart to fall for a line, darling.”

The way the endearments simply fell of his tongue intrigued her. Did he always talk like that? A guy as good looking as him probably had women falling all over themselves. “How do you know?”

Killian pulled out into traffic. For an Englishman, he had the driving on the right thing down. How long had he lived here? She wanted to ask, but didn't want to get too personal. She hardly knew him and probably wouldn't see him after today anyway.

“Your eyes,” he was saying, ripping her from her reverie. “You can play the vapid socialite but you hate it.”

Emma opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. How could he know _that_? Was she that transparent? That thought frightened her. She decided to change the topic. “So where are we going?”

“There's a little penny arcade on the edge of town, near the beach. Tourists generally don't go there; it's more for the locals. It's got a good view of the ocean.”

“I love the ocean.” It just came out.

“Another thing we have in common then, lass.” He grinned reassuringly at her, then turned back to the road. “We'll be there in a few minutes. Just relax, Emma.”

The way he said her name was definitely something she could get used to. It sounded so much more sophisticated when he said it, rather than the name of a grandma. Then again, it could have been worse. Her grandfather's name was Leopold.

They pulled into the arcade parking lot; it didn't seem busy, despite the summer heat. The breeze came off the ocean, but that only kept things tolerable. The heat wouldn't truly break until sundown. Killian was at her door again, giving her a hand down. Warmth bloomed from where he touched her, but it was gone as soon as it came, so she figured she imagined it. It had been so long since she'd been truly attracted to someone, she wasn't even sure what it felt like anymore. She'd been soured on the whole thing.

She followed Killian inside, eyes widening at the vast array of games. “Wow.”

“Isn't it though? They have a lot of the games from back in the day. Which one would you like to play first?”

Emma shrugged helplessly. “Honestly, I have no idea. I'm not really a gamer.”

“Neither am I, love. You don't have to be to play these.” He walked over to the change machine and got twenty dollars worth of quarters. “Ladies choice. I'll help you,” he finished with a wink.

They started simple with a Star Wars themed pin ball machine. Emma laughed at how ridiculous she must look, but Killian didn't seem to mind. He was right beside her, muttering encouragement, occasionally hitting a ball she would otherwise have missed. It was _fun_ , more fun than she'd had in a long time.

They played Pac Man, Duck Hunt (with Killian holding her hand as she shot), Galaga. They raced each other at the Daytona 500. Emma's cheeks hurt from smiling so much. They took a break to get a slice of pizza from the small kitchen that served the arcade, washing it down with some Coke.

“So how long have you lived here?” Emma asked, taking a swig of her Coke.

“Off and on for about seven years. I spend most of the year down in Honolulu at the university.”

“What are you studying?”

“Marine biology. It's boring.”

Emma cocked a brow at him. “Why would you think it's boring?”

“Well, boring to _you_. I've always been fascinated by the things that live in the sea.”

“I guess I've never really thought about it. I just like watching the waves, the ocean during storms especially.”

“Don't get much of that in the big city, I'd imagine.”

“We have a place on Long Island,” she admitted.

“Ah.” Killian finished his Coke. “Ready for another go, love?”

“Sure. I'm going to kick your butt this time, Jones.”

She did not as it turned out, kick his butt. She did find herself staring at it on occasion. The more time they spent together, the harder it was to ignore. Killian seemed completely oblivious to the large stain on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up to expose his forearms. His shorts hung low on his hips, exposing his long toned legs, and causing his shirt to ride up when he cheered exuberantly about something. The glimpse she got of his stomach made her mouth run dry.

Why didn't a guy like this have a girlfriend? It seemed impossible.

“You don't have a girlfriend, do you?” she blurted out, as they walked up to one of the ski ball games.

“Why do you ask?”

“You're not answering my question.” She froze, not budging until he gave her an answer. She wasn't going to be some notch on his bedpost; she wasn't a cheater.

Killian's eyes softened. “No, I don't. In fact, I haven't been on a real date in a long time.”

“How?”

“Well, most of us have this thing called work. And when I'm not working, studying.”

Now she felt bad for being suspicious. He'd been nothing but straight with her since the beginning. And she could tell. She could tell when people were lying, or just using her. It came in handy for telling her real friends from the fake ones. Which was why Elsa was her only real friend.

“Oh, sorry. I guess I'm a bit rusty dating wise too.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Let's just say that most men aren't really interested in _me_.”

“Bloody fools, the lot of them,” he said again. “Shall we?”

She smiled. “Yeah.”

By the time they were played out, it was dark. Killian guided her outside, but she didn't head for his Jeep. She wasn't quite ready for the day to be over. Unfortunately, Killian's phone kept ringing. “Do you need to get that? Could be important.”

Killian tapped out a message, then switched his phone off. “I was supposed to meet some friends, but I've found a much better way to spend the day.”

“If you have to be somewhere...”

“Nonsense, Emma. Spending the evening with a beautiful lass is a _much_ better use of my time.” He gave her a cocky grin, then offered her his arm. “Care for a walk, love?”

She took it and nodded. “Sure.” They walked along the small boardwalk, slipping down to the beach. Emma took off her boots, letting the sand slip between her toes. They talked about nothing profound, just small talk, enjoying the moment. She couldn't remember the last time she had a quiet moment like this, one with no expectations. She had to admit it was nice.

But it couldn't last.

She had to keep reminding herself of that. Nothing here was permanent. Still, she could have some fun, take some good memories home with her.

“Emma?”

“Hmmm?”

“I asked you wanted some ice cream.”

“Oh. Sorry. Yeah, that would be great.” There was a little stand on the edge of the boardwalk, run by an older lady. Killian seemed to know her as well, as they greeted each other warmly.

“What flavor?” the lady, Ingrid, asked.

“Do you have Rocky Road?”

“As it happens I do.” Ingrid scooped out a sizable amount and dropped it deftly into the waffle cone. “Any for you, Killian?”

“No, I'm fine. Thanks though.” He handed Ingrid some cash before Emma could stop him. She accepted her cone gratefully, linking arms with Killian again after he gallantly took her shoes. They walked down to one of the low sea walls, under a catch of palm trees. It was dark and secluded, the only light coming from the moon shining off the ocean.

Emma sat on the low wall, Killian beside her, not too close. They watched the tide come in in companionable silence, but Emma noticed him scooting closer to her. His proximity was making her body hum; it was the first time they were truly alone, away from prying eyes. She didn't know what would happen and it was thrilling to her.

“Do you want some?” she asked, holding out her half eaten cone.

“Rocky Road's not really my flavor, lass.”

“Try it.”

His teeth shone in the low light. “Very well.” He leaned in and licked at the melting cream, his eyes locked with hers. She shivered as he pulled away, sucking the treat into his mouth. “Hmm, perhaps I could get used to it.”

“Maybe you should have another bite, just to be sure.” She didn't know where this boldness was coming from, but she had to admit she liked it.

“Are you going to join me, lass?” he asked just before leaning in again. Emma's fingers tightened around the cone, then she made her decision. She leaned forward too, lapping at the melting ice cream. They were insanely close like this, sharing the cone. Noses brushed cheeks, warmth pooled in her stomach. When their tongues touched, all pretense of propriety was forgotten. Emma dropped the cone into the sand, her unoccupied hand coming up to curl into his shirt.

Killian moaned softly, hand coming up around her waist. They hovered there for a second, lips barely touching, breath in each other's face before giving in. Emma moved first, pressing her lips more firmly to his, swallowing his surprised grunt.

Emma hadn't been kissed in ages, and certainly never like this. It started very chaste, the sweet brushing of lips, the taste of the Rocky Road. Killian's hand skimmed under her shirt, fingertips brushing her lower back. “Emma...” he breathed.

“Shhh, just kiss me.” She may have just met him, but she liked the way this felt. The warm feeling spread all the way to her toes, making her feel lighter, freer than she had in quite some time. She yelped softly when Killian hoisted her into his lap, so she was straddling his hips. Emma cradled his face in her hands, thumbs brushing over his scruff, meeting his lips once more. Her tongue slid out and Killian opened for her instantly, meeting her stroke for stroke. Good lord, he was a fantastic kisser.

When his hands slid under her shirt again, she didn't stop him, enjoying the feel of the calloused palms on her skin. It was so different from anyone else she'd been with, not that there were many.

“Killian,” she whispered, pulling back to breathe.

“Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head. “No. You feel good.”

“Bloody hell.” He pressed kisses to her cheek, her jaw, her neck. “There so much I'd like to do to you.” _But not here_ was left unspoken. They were too exposed and Emma suspected that neither of them had come prepared for such an encounter. She knew she hadn't. But she could feel how much this was affecting him, the hard ridge between her thighs.

“I know. Me too.” She wasn't usually _that_ girl, but she wasn't Emma Nolan here. She was just Emma and Emma wanted to make out (and perhaps more) with a really hot guy she met in Starbucks.

“You know what we can do though...” Killian began, his voice molten against her ear. He rolled his hips up, grinding into her heat. “Let me make you feel good, lass.”

“Oh god.” She kissed him hard, rolling her hips into his. The seam of her jeans pressed right against her clit and she needed _more._ Killian seemed to know, his hands sliding further up her shirt, brushing over the cups of her bra. He kneaded her breasts through the fabric; Emma threw her head back, long hair caught in the breeze. Killian pulled her shirt up, yanked the cups down, his mouth hot on the swell of her breasts. She whimpered, hands fisted in his hair, trying to hold herself up as the pressure built low in her belly.

Killian sucked a puckered nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and teeth, making Emma keen loudly. “Shhh,” he murmured, plucking at her other nipple. “I don't want to let you go until you've come for me.”

“Fuck,” she whispered. No one had ever made her feel like this, heady desire making her body feel heavy and light all at once. She ground her hips into his, faster now, imagining how it would feel to ride him. He was thick from what she could tell through their clothes, sure to fill her up.

“That's it, Emma. Fuck, just a little more. Feels so fucking good.”

The tension snapped without warning, her orgasm crashing into her as she moved. Emma stifled her cry in Killian's neck, holding on as he bucked under her, dragging out her orgasm and triggering his own. Emma sagged in his lap, panting for breath. Holy lord, she'd just dry humped a guy she just met. In semi public.

Even stranger, she didn't regret it.

“Love?” Killian said softly, stroking her back.

“Yeah?”

“Still with me?”

“I think so. Damn.”

“Indeed.” He kissed her neck, then eased her off his lap. “Not quite how imagined my night going when I stopped for coffee.”

Emma blushed as she worked to straighten her clothes. “Me neither.”

“But I must say I like how the evening turned out.”

“So do I.” She'd taken her friend's advice and lived a little. She was quite proud of herself for that. That and the amazing orgasm went a long way in easing that tiny voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like her mother.

They got cleaned up as best they could and walked back hand in hand to Killian's Jeep. He pressed her up against it, kissing her senseless again. “Will I see you again?”

Emma clung to his shirt. “Maybe,” she said coyly. “Do you want to?”

“Very much.” He slid his hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone. He held it up to her so she could unlock it, taking it back and tapping furiously on the screen. When he handed it back to her, his number was among her contacts. “Now you'll know where to find me.”

She understood what he was doing; he was putting the ball in her court. If she wanted to see him again, she could call him. If not, then she could erase his number, no harm done. But she could see in his eyes eyes how much he wanted her to call him. She nodded, slipping the phone back into her pocket. “Okay.” She looked away, feeling suddenly shy.

Killian pressed a chaste kiss to her brow and stepped back. He unlocked the Jeep and helped her in. They took the short drive back to her car in silence, Emma having no idea what to do with her hands. When they got back to Starbucks, she impulsively leaned over and kissed him again, wanting to taste him one last time. She had to fight the urge to crawl back into his lap, breaking the kiss with a sheepish grin.

“Good night, Killian. Thank you for a wonderful day.”

“It was my pleasure, Emma. Good night.” He cradled her cheek for a moment, then pulled back, smiling softly.

Emma nodded and moved to open her door. She hopped out of the Jeep, checking to make sure she had everything. She gave Killian the thumbs up and slammed the door closed. She fished for her keys; Killian kindly waiting until she had the motor running. With one final wave, he was gone.

Emma sat there, hands on the steering wheel, wondering what in the _hell_ had just happened. It was a feeling she was unaccustomed to; she didn't quite know what it was, or what to make of it. Realizing she was getting nowhere in an empty parking lot, she decided to go home.

_Elsa's not going to believe this_ , she thought, heading out into traffic.  _I sure can't._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Brief description of a dub con scenario (not Killian and Emma).

Killian rubbed his eyes, thoroughly annoyed that he'd essentially been staring at the same data for ten minutes and not comprehending an iota of it. “Come on, mate,” he chided himself. “You're better than this. If she calls, she calls.”

He had to resist the urge to look at his phone again, somehow paranoid that he'd missed her. Which was insane because his ringer was not only _on_ but turned up to its highest setting.

God, was he pathetic or what?

Twenty four hours ago, none of this would have mattered. If he'd just gotten his coffee and gone to Robin's, he wouldn't be sitting at his makeshift desk (an old door bolted to a couple of saw horses) staring at important data but not seeing it. He'd probably be grumbling about how England lost (did they lose? He didn't even know) to Will as he headed out to check his traps. Killian much preferred the hands on part of his research to writing.

_Hands on._ Killian sighed heavily, the unbidden image already in front of him. Emma's lithe body grinding in his lap, practically begging for his touch. His hands on her, smoothing over her pale skin, palming her perfect breasts.

_Bloody hell._ He knew he should stop—for Christ's sake, she hadn't even called him back yet—but he was helpless against his body's reactions. From the moment he kissed her, he was lost. Up until then, he'd pretended it was a game, a game he was determined to win. Then she let him pull her into his lap and taste her skin. Killian's hand drifted down to the growing bulge in his pants, even now the memory of it driving him crazy. He sighed, pressing down against it, remembering how Emma moved.

He wouldn't have suspected her earlier clumsiness from their encounter. Her movements were fluid and smooth, back arched, legs spread as she straddled him, hips rocking over his erection. Killian slid his hand under his running shorts, forcing the fabric down to free his cock. He leaned back in the chair, sighing, lightly stroking. His eyes fell closed thinking about how she tasted, his mouth teasing her nipples, the breathy sighs and moans.

God, she was beautiful.

He imagined all the things he'd  _wanted_ to do had they been somewhere less exposed. Lick every inch of her until she was begging for him to take her. Have her kneel between his legs and suck him off. Killian's hand moved faster, thumb swiping at the precum with practiced ease. He bit his lip, imagining her pink lips around his cock, licking him until he was cross eyed and gasping. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, hips rolling into his fist. He wanted to know what she felt like. Tight? Hot? Had she been wet for him? Had she wanted him inside her? Killian hadn't wanted anyone that badly in a long time, and watching her dry hump him until she orgasmed was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

Killian squeezed his eyes shut as he came, a hoarse grunt spilling from his lips. He panted as he came down, his hand and clothes covered in his sticky mess.

He couldn't even feel bad about it.

No, the guilt he felt about wanting her at  _all_ far outweighed fantasizing abut her.

He'd stopped at Starbucks on a whim, craving an iced coffee before heading to Robin's house. In, out, no big deal. But no sooner was he in the door than hot coffee splashed down his front and a horrified female voice spouted apologies. Well, his mother had raised him to be a gentleman, so he immediately tried to comfort her, to assure her that no lasting harm had been done.

That's when he saw her face.

It took a moment for it to register, but it was undoubtedly her. Apple Lady, as he'd taken to calling her in his head. He hadn't seen her since dropping off her bags, but he wasn't likely to forget that blonde hair or those kissable lips. She was still apologizing, looking right at him with no recognition whatsoever. Which figured. He didn't expect someone like her to remember someone like him. He passed guests all the time at the resort; most only gave staff the briefest of nods, if they got acknowledged at all.

So if she didn't remember him, he wasn't going to enlighten her.

But he couldn't help but be endeared to the way she fussed, embarrassed at her clumsiness. It made her cheeks flush in a very pleasing way, her long lashes brush her cheek as she tried to look anywhere but at him. He was charmed by her in spite of himself. Hell, he even flirted with her.

So it stunned him to his core when she flirted back.

Not one to really look a gift horse in the mouth, he ran with it, buying her coffee, bantering with her. Her name meant nothing to him; obviously, she came from a wealthy background or she wouldn't have been staying at Crocodile Bay. She seemed to perk up at that; it wasn't difficult to figure out that she was a bit put off by fawning people. It was so different from his initial impression of her.

Perhaps that was what compelled him to ask her out. He expected her to reject him. What he didn't expect was for her to not only agree, but then immediately assume he wanted to see her half naked and wet. Which now...well, yeah he  _did_ (he was a gentleman, not dead), but that had been the furthest thing from his mind in the moment. He was curious about her, wondering which impression was the right one.

That's why he took her to the arcade. He expected her to turn her nose up at any moment, but she never did. And she never shied away from him either, even when it was obvious they were standing closer than was strictly necessary. She just seemed like a normal girl, having fun, flirting with a guy she just met.

Then came the ice cream and the kiss and the grinding and he knew he would regret it if he didn't see her again. He  _liked_ her, beyond just being attracted to her. She was fun and smart and pretty. 

And ridiculously out of his league.

Crocodile Bay had a no fraternization policy. Staff and guests... _big_ no no. People often came for weeks on end, gorgeous Hawaiian sun, romantic fairy tale-esque atmosphere...it wasn't difficult to turn a few heads, go for some discreet flirting. There was an urban legend among the staff that their boss Regina had fallen for a guest back in the day, that it had ended tragically. Killian didn't know if that was true or not, but he knew a couple of people who'd gotten fired for spreading the rumor.

He'd never even given it a thought. Until now.

Mentally berating himself for his stupidity, he headed for the bathroom to clean up. He stripped off his clothes and hopped in the shower, hoping the hot water would clear his head. He absolutely would  _not_ think about how Emma would look in his shower, naked, wet, pressed up against him.

Perhaps she'd never call and he could just get back to his life.

Shutting off the water (after scrubbing himself twice), he stepped out and grabbed a towel. Drying off, he wrapped the towel around his hips and headed out to his closet for some clean clothes.

“Oi! Anybody here?” It was Will.

“Back here, mate!” Killian called, hastily pulling on a fresh pair of jeans. Will was his friend, but there were some things they didn't share.

Will's boots clomped on the hardwood floors. “I was about ta call out a search party for ya, Jones,” he said, stepping around a pile of Killian's books. The studio apartment wasn't very big, essentially one room with a cramped but serviceable kitchen and the bathroom. “Where were ya, anyway?”

Killian shrugged. “Something came up.”

Will's brow creased. “That's what Robin said. But it's not like ya ta miss a match.”

“I know. I just...got distracted.”

“Would this distraction be of the female variety?”

“Is that your business?”

Will plopped himself down on Killian's bed. “When my best mate misses England versus Brazil—we got slaughtered by the way, thanks for askin'—then doesn't call or text in over twenty four hours...yeah, that's my business.”

Killian groaned. “Has it really been that long?” He ignored the tiny kernel of disappointment as he considered that she really might not be calling him at all. That was  _good_ , it would make his life infinitely easier. Right? He didn't have time to date, he had work and his research.

Then he thought about the way she smiled and his heart squeezed. He couldn't deny it. He wanted to see her again. Maybe even take her out on a real date. There was just something about her that intrigued him.

“Killian?” Will said, snapping his fingers in Killian's face. “You in there, mate?”

“Sorry. You were saying?”

“It _was_ a woman,” he shot back, smug. “Spill.”

Killian rolled his eyes. “Everything's a woman with you, Scarlet.”

“And nothing's a woman with you. If it's got you in this much of a snit, then it has to be a woman. And not just the shag and run variety either.”

Killian pulled a faded blue t-shirt out of his dresser and threw it on. “If I tell you will you leave me alone, so I can get some work done?”

“You got a beer?”

“Come on, you drunken lout.” But it was said fondly with no heat. They'd been friends for years, too used to each other's quirks. Will was the first Englishman he'd met when came to the North Shore, had helped him find his place. Will liked a pint, a lass and some revelry...in that order. When he could combine all three, he was in heaven.

_He doesn't like blondes_ , Killian thought idly, reaching into his fridge for a bottle. He'd gotten used to the way Americans took their beer, even if most of it tasted like piss. Killian knew the story; Will had imparted it late one night not long after Killian had met him, half passed out on the floor of this very apartment. It was the only time Will had even spoken of her, Anastasia. They'd come to Hawaii to start over and she'd run off with an older, richer man after a few months. Will never saw her again.

Killian respected his friend's privacy, knew what it was like to want to avoid a painful past. He'd returned the favor, entrusting his own tale on a similar occasion. But Will's dislike of blondes did make him wonder what he would make of Emma.

“So who is she?” Will asked, accepting the beer.

Killian shrugged. “Just a girl.” He took a pull from his own beer. “She spilled coffee on me in bloody Starbucks.”

Will slammed down his drink. “On your  _kit_ ? Is she mad?” he asked indignantly. One point against her for not understanding the importance of a football fan's kit.

Killian kicked Will under the table. “She didn't do it on purpose, you daft git. It was an accident. Some bleach and it'll be good as new.”

Will looked skeptical, but nodded. “So this girl nearly ruins your clothes and you what? Asked her out on a date?”

“Something like that,” Killian mumbled.

“Killian, if you needed a lass, all you had to do was call me.”

“Why is everything about sex with you?”

Will frowned. “So...you  _didn't_ bed her? Are you ill?”

Killian got up in a huff, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “There is  _nothing_ wrong with me, damn it! Why can't I just like her?”

“Mate, ya haven't even told me her name yet.”

Killian leaned back against the counter, sighing heavily. “Emma. Her name is Emma.” He didn't mention her last name; that was more than Will needed to know.

“So this Emma spills coffee all over yer kit, ya take her out...and what?”

“Why am I even talking about this with you?”

“Because I'm the only who'll listen. Now quit bellyachin' and tell yer damn story.”

So he did. Well, almost all of it. He didn't mention her staying at the Crocodile, knew it would be an unnecessary complication. Besides, if Emma never called him then no one needed to know anyway. She could just be a pleasant memory for him.

There was nothing to do now but wait.

* * *

 

Emma's feet pounded the pavement as she ran. Well, jogged. Since it didn't appear that she was leaving anytime soon, she decided it would be a good idea to have at least a little routine. A little yoga in the morning, a couple mile jog in the cooler evenings. Another of Elsa's brilliant ideas.

She was avoiding and she knew it. Elsa knew it. For the first day or so after her impromptu date, they didn't discuss it beyond Emma's initial telling of the story. Elsa had been thrilled, despite the ungodly hour. But when she asked if Emma was going to call him, Emma clammed up. She made some excuse about needing to get to bed, but she knew Elsa wasn't fooled.

The truth was, Emma didn't know if she was going to call him or not. An impulsive one off date seemed a lot less scary than trying the dating thing. She hadn't come there to  _date_ . But she couldn't deny that part of her really wanted to see him again. Her dreams were haunted by the way he touched her, the unfinished feeling of it all. She'd woken up hot and wanting more than once.

Which was why she was running.

It had been three days now and she still didn't know what to do. She tried weighing the pros and cons, but Elsa insisted she was overthinking it. And she probably was. She could try and rationalize it by pretending she was making _Killian_ sweat, but that was a lie. She wasn't the “hard to get” girl. Emma had always mocked those girls. But after Neal...she was scared to put herself out there again. Even now. It was a hell of a lot scarier than walking into a boardroom.

When Emma got back to her bungalow, there was another message from Elsa. Downing an entire bottle of water, she dialed, putting it on speaker.

“You still haven't called him, have you?” Elsa said without preamble.

“Well, hello to you too,” Emma said sarcastically.

“Emma,” Elsa replied, her voice softer.

“Elsa.”

Elsa sighed. “I've been avoiding this, hoping you'd figure it out on your own, but really. Tell me one  _good_ reason not to call him.”

“I barely know him.” Which sounded weak, even to her.

“You can't get to know him _better_ if you don't call him.”

“What if that night was a fluke?” She was certain they had a connection; she wasn't that blind. It just wasn't something she was overly familiar with. She'd known Neal for _years_ before they started dating and she'd been so, so wrong about him.

“So what if it was? Again, you won't _know_ if you don't take a chance.”

“You know that's highly ironic coming from you, right?”

“We're not talking about me, Emma,” Elsa chided. But Emma could hear the faint sound of sadness in her voice. She wished there was something she could do for her friend. Elsa deserved to be happy.

Emma put down her water bottle and put the phone back to her ear. “Okay, what if it  _wasn't_ ?” she said worriedly. And  _that_ was what she was really afraid of. It always started so well...then there was a change and not for the better. 

“You're not looking to _marry_ him, Emma,” Elsa said gently. “Just one date. See what happens.”

“Oh, I think I know what would happen,” Emma said with a shaky laugh.

“Well, you did say he was hot.”

“Yeah, hot doesn't really cover it.” She paused, thinking. “Scrumptious? Gorgeous? Did I mention the blue eyes?”

Elsa laughed. “You did. Several times. He's English?”

“Yep.”

“I've always wanted to go there.” They had a few casual acquaintances in New York, but Elsa, unlike Emma, had never left the country.

“Well, you have shaken hands with William and Kate. That's got to count for something.”

“I'll remember that the next time I'm looking at a picture of Buckingham Palace. You're avoiding again.”

“Okay, okay. I'll call him. Tomorrow. He's probably studying or something.”

Elsa tutted over the line, but seemed to accept that reasoning. They gossiped a bit about things in New York, then hung up. Emma showered and changed into her makeshift pajamas, then watched a couple of cheesy movies on pay per view. She was deliberately distracting herself, knowing that if she didn't she'd chicken out. Emma wasn't an impulsive person, generally. Dropping everything and coming to Hawaii on a whim was, as Elsa had said, extreme behavior for her.

But the time away from home...Emma couldn't deny she _felt_ better, more comfortable in her own skin. With no act to put on, she could just _be_. And this guy really seemed to like _her_ , Emma. No pretenses. It was definitely attractive... _he_ was attractive. Okay...he just might be the hottest guy she'd ever met, but she wasn't about to say that out loud. Certainly not to _him._

Decision made, she went to bed.

“Hey, it's Killian. Clearly I'm busy, so leave a message.”

Emma frowned as she waited for the beep. It was only around nine o'clock, he was probably at work. _Yeah, Emma, people do that_ , she chided herself. _Stop being ridiculous._ “Um, hi. It's Emma, the girl from the other night? Of course you remember. Sorry.” God, she was babbling. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to, I don't know, _do_ something later? Unless you're working. Or hate me for waiting so long to call.” She winced. “Just let me know. Or don't. Bye.” She pressed the end button and groaned. “Good job, Emma. That didn't sound pathetic at _all.”_

She shook it off and started to make her breakfast. She was learning, but she could make scrambled eggs without too much trouble. She was running out, so decided to get some when she went out later. She absolutely would _not_ be sitting by her phone, waiting for it to ring. If he was going to call, then he would.

It was lunch time by the time she had a chance to go into town. The resort had some perfectly fine shops, but Emma liked the little town. It felt more like she was living on her own, than staying on vacation. She'd never truly lived on her own. The closest she'd gotten was at NYU, but even that was a short drive from her parents' penthouse. If she needed something she just called and their staff took care of it.

It was a hell of a way to live.

The resort staff kept her linens clean, vacuumed, did her laundry. She'd acquired more clothes since arriving, having only brought enough for a week or so. This trip really had been impulsive; she'd not come very prepared. And certainly nothing _date_ worthy, not that she was worried about that. At all.

Emma walked out of the little market she'd found, her arms laden with bags. There were a few recipes she'd been eyeing in her cookbook; she wanted to take a stab at them. She got extra in case she burned something, which had already happened on a couple of embarrassing occasions. She was nearly to her car when her phone rang.

“Damn it,” she muttered. She hurried to the trunk and dropped her bags, reaching into her pocket for her phone. Her heart sped up when she saw who it was. “Hello?”

“Emma?” Killian's voice sounded slightly flat over the connection. “It's Killian.”

“I know,” she blurted. “Caller ID.”

“Oh, right.” Killian chuckled. “Sorry I missed you earlier. I was neck deep in a Suburban's engine block.”

Emma smiled; she'd been right. “It's no big deal.” _Keep it casual, Emma._

There was a sound like cars going by. “So...you wanted to do something?”

“Um, yeah. If you want to. I had fun the other night.”

She could almost hear his grin. “I did too.” There was a grunt and a huff. “Oi! Watch where you're going, mate!”

Emma frowned. “Where are you?”

“At the market,” he replied, irritated. “Bloody idiotic drivers.”

A chill ran down her spine. No way. No _way_. That would just be too weird, right? “Um, which market?”

Killian laughed. “Love, there's only one. This town's not that big.”

“You mean the one on Kuilima?”

“Aye, why?”

“Because I'm there right now.” She looked up toward the doors, searching for him. She even got on her toes to see better. And suddenly, there he was, stepping out from around the corner, looking around for _her_. She waved, a bit hesitantly. When he saw her, his face lit up and she had to suppress a grin of her own.

“Well, I'll be buggered,” Killian said into the phone, while looking right at her.

“Um, hi?”

“Stay right there, love.” He hung up and stroke toward her with long purposeful strides. He stopped right in front of her, still smiling. “Well, this is a most pleasant surprise, I must say.”

“You always talk like that?” she asked, trying not to stare at his bared arms. Because holy _shit_. The shirt he'd worn the other night did not even begin to do him justice. Emma swallowed, almost imperceptibly shifting her weight from foot to foot. He wore a gray t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and dark jean shorts. Her fingers itched to take the shirt _off_ and see if the rest of him was as well defined as his biceps. _Down, girl._

Killian frowned. “Like what?”

“Like it's 1850 or something.”

He shrugged. “Don't think that's something I can help, love.”

Emma shoved her hands in her pockets nervously. “No, I mean, it's fine. It's just...not something you hear every day. I like it.” _Shit, had she really said that out loud?_

Killian's cocky smirk was back. “Then I shall endeavor to continue.”

Well now what? Here he was in front of her and she suddenly felt like a clueless fifteen year old with a crush. Which was ridiculous considering what they'd done the other night. “So, um...”

“You said something about going out tonight?”

Emma sighed in relief. “Yeah. If you're not busy.”

“I'm not busy in the slightest.”

“No friend thing to duck out of?” she teased.

“I'm afraid not. Just a drink with a beautiful lass. If she wishes, that is.”

Emma grinned. “Yes. I'd like that.” And perhaps more than a drink?

Killian's face softened; he took a step toward her, his hand coming up to gently brush her cheek. “I'd really like to kiss you right now.”

Emma took a shallow breath, her eyes flickering to his lips. Would they be as soft as she remembered? Had that night been a fluke? There was only one way to find out. She licked her lips unconsciously. “So kiss me.”

His smile flickered for the briefest moment, then he surged forward, capturing her lips. Emma made a surprised sound in the back of her throat, her hands flying up to his arms to brace herself. There was the softness she remembered, the warmth, the hint of passion. Killian's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, his tongue trailing over her bottom lip. She opened without hesitation, caught up in the moment. It only lasted a few tantalizing seconds, then Killian pulled away abruptly, leaving them both panting.

“You are far too tempting, lass,” Killian muttered, his thumbs caressing her lower back.

“Sorry?”

Killian shook his head. “No, don't apologize. I'm rather fond of it.”

Emma chuckled breathlessly. “I couldn't tell.”

“Shall I enlighten you?”

God, did she want him to. But they were in the middle of a very public parking lot. And she still barely knew him. Emma forced herself to straighten up, even though she remained in the circle of his arms. “Easy, tiger. We've got drinks later.”

Killian chuckled, giving her another one of those smiles that made her knees weak. “Very well, lass. Pick you up at nine?”

“You don't even know where I'm staying.”

Killian glanced away, then back. “Perhaps I was hoping you would share?”

_He's just being a gentleman, you idiot_ , Emma scolded herself. “Crocodile Bay, Bungalow 205. Don't be late.”

His smile was back. “I assure you, love, I'm never late.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “See you tonight.”

“Okay.” She felt oddly cold when he stepped away, in spite of the heat. Killian winked and waved one last time before heading back in the direction of the market.

_Alright, Emma,_ she thought as she got into her car,  _you've got a date. Try not to screw it up._

* * *

Killian couldn't believe it. Just when he'd all but given up hope of the gorgeous blonde calling him, she not only  _called_ but they ran into each other in the parking lot of the local market. What were the odds of that? His head still reeling, he went through the motions of his shopping, barely seeing what he was buying. 

He could still feel her lips on his.

He didn't even understand what made him do it. But having her there in front of him, looking delightfully casual in a tank top and shorts, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, he was drawn to her. He didn't expect her to just  _let_ him kiss her, right there in front of whoever walked by, but just like the other night, she surprised him.

And damn could she kiss.

He'd never felt anything quite like it and it seemed like she felt the same way. At least he hoped she did. Either that or she was a hell of an actress.

Killian shook his head, realizing he was being stupid. He still barely knew her, something he was going to remedy as soon as possible. He liked her and wanted to know her better. Tonight would be an excellent start. And if something else happened? Well, that was alright too.

He was in the middle of getting ready when his phone rang. “Jones,” he said, a bit annoyed. He had just stepped out of the shower.

“Got plans tonight, mate?” Will asked.

Killian groaned. His friend would never let him hear the end of this. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

“That lass finally call your sorry ass?”

Killian ground his teeth in annoyance. “Aye, she did. We're going out for a drink in a little bit.”

“Just a drink?”

“Will...”

“Oh come on, mate. You can't tell me that if she wants you you're gonna be daft enough to refuse!”

“Of course not, you bleeding ponce! But I do actually like her. As more than just a piece of ass.”

“If you say so, Jones. Fine, go on your _date_. Mind if I swing by?”

“Fuck you, Scarlet.”

“Love you too, mate.” Will hung up, still laughing.

Killian tossed his phone on the bed and went to his closet. Will was right. He was being stupid. It was a drink with a lass. He'd done it dozens of times. Some went well, some went horribly wrong. But he could feel it. There was  _something_ different about this one. Emma wasn't just some random lass. He really genuinely liked her and it scared him.

It had been so long since he'd wanted anything for himself. And this was someone he shouldn't want, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. She made him feel a bit reckless,  _alive_ in a way he hadn't been in years. 

Dressed in a pair of jeans, blue t-shirt and a black vest, he hopped in his Jeep and drove over to the resort. The route familiar, he winced at the mistake he almost made when he offered to pick her up. She didn't know him as the bellman who drove her to her bungalow and dropped off her bags. He doubted she'd give him the time of day if she did.

He pulled up in front of her bungalow and put the Jeep in park. He climbed out and marched up to her door, checking his phone. Two minutes to nine; he was early, good. Killian knocked smartly and waited.

It didn't take long. The door swung open and Killian put on his most charming smile. It melted into a look of awe when he saw her. Emma appeared equally stunned, her foot bobbing as she hung onto the door.

“Hi.”

Killian sucked in a shallow breath. “Evening, love.”

“You're on time.”

He grinned. “Aye. You look beautiful, Emma.” She was in a pale pink sundress, with thin straps and a skirt that hung to mid thigh, exposing her long legs. Her golden tresses tumbled around her shoulders in wavy curls; she was breathtaking.

“Thanks. You look nice too.”

“And this isn't even my best effort.”

“Maybe you'll get another chance.”

“Oh, I know I will.”

Emma gave him a little huff and a smirk. “You always this cocky?”

He winked at her. “In more ways than one, love.”

Emma rolled her eyes, but Killian saw her smile. He offered her his arm. “Shall we then?”

She snatched her tiny bag off the nearby table and took his arm. “Show me what you got.”

He took her to a little hole in the wall bar he knew, surreptitiously checking that Will's car wasn't in the parking lot. Coast clear, he helped Emma down from his Jeep, letting his hands linger just a little too long. He couldn't help it; she was warm and soft and seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. His hand fell to the small of her back as he led her inside.

“This is a nice place,” Emma observed, her tone neutral. Yes, he imagined there were far fancier places in New York, but this was his favorite bar in town. It was dimly lit except where the dart board and pool tables were; there were no TVs or any other distractions. Just an old wooden bar, some equally old wooden tables and good drinks.

“The drinks are reasonable and I play a fair game of darts,” he said casually.

“Come here a lot?”

Killian shrugged. “Here more than others, I suppose. I'm rather fond of it and Granny treats everyone well.”

“Granny?”

Killian nodded toward the bar. “The Widow Lucas and her granddaughter run it. Been here longer than I have.” Emma seemed to accept that, still looking around the place. “What would you like to drink, love?”

“At the risk of sounding like someone in a bad 80s movie...could I get one of those fruity umbrella drinks? I haven't had one since I got here.”

Killian grinned; she was adorable. “An absolute travesty that we shall remedy immediately.” He motioned to Ruby, Granny's granddaughter. The brunette—dressed in a crop top and a grass skirt, in case some random tourist should happen by no doubt—took their drink orders, smiling at Killian appreciatively.

“She's pretty.”

“Is she?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Oh please. You don't have to play dumb, Killian. Even I can tell she's a knockout.”

“Perhaps I just have a thing for blondes.”

Emma laughed. “God, that was so sad.”

Killian rested his hand on her bare knee. “And yet, at the moment, entirely true.” He hadn't even thought about anyone else since that day in Starbucks. Technically, Emma was right. Ruby was very attractive. But he'd never been attracted to her, despite her flirting.

Emma flushed prettily in the low light, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Is this weird?” she asked suddenly. “I mean, we've...you know...aren't we doing this backwards?”

“You mean, should the drink come before grinding in my lap?” he said, leaning in close so no one could hear. “I rather like the way we did it, love.”

“God, I'm so bad at this.”

“You're really not.” He touched his hand to hers. “Let's just enjoy our drink and see where the evening takes us, yeah?”

She smiled. “Okay.”

As if on cue, their drinks arrived, something fruity with an umbrella for Emma and beer for Killian. He would be driving later so he didn't want to overdo it.

“Hmm, that's really good,” Emma said, lips smacking. “Like _really_ good.”

“Crossed off your bucket list, love?”

“I think I'm too young for a bucket list, but yeah. It's Hawaii, so I figure, why not?”

“Excellent philosophy. Although living here as long as I have, I must say the allure has worn off.”

Emma cocked her head, sipping on her drink. “What's up with that anyway? How does an Englishman wind up  _here_ of all places?”

“It's rather a long...and not very happy, story. Suffice it to say that I had no reason to remain there.”

“Did you run away?” Emma covered her mouth in horror. “Sorry, I don't mean to pry. I'm literally the _last_ person who should be grilling anyone about why they left home.”

Killian took a pull on his beer. “Is that what you did? Run all the way to Hawaii?”

“No,” she said quickly. Then she deflated. “Okay, maybe a little. The poor little rich girl couldn't handle her super privileged life and ran away to paradise. How sad is that?”

“I guess it depends on the girl. I have a hard time believing you didn't have a reason.”

“You barely know me.”

“On the contrary, love, I feel like I know you quite well.” He laced his words with a hint of innuendo to lighten the mood, not expecting things to get this heavy, this fast.

Emma put her empty glass down. “If you know me so well, tell me what I want right now.”

Killian considered her. “First, another drink. Then...” He looked around. “How about a round of darts? You enjoy games as I recall.”

Emma's eyes sparkled when she smiled. It was something he wanted to see as often as possible. “Wow, two for two. I'm impressed.” Killian got her another drink, then guided her over to the empty dart board.

“Ever play darts in that...what did you call it? Your super privileged life?”

“Believe it or not, there are _are_ dart boards in New York.”

“Well then princess, show me.” Emma raised her brows credulously at his little nickname for her, but it suited her. A princess on an adventure.

She took another sip of her drink and accepted the darts. Standing behind the line, she took aim while Killian watched. The first shot went wide; Killian had to suppress a smile. Emma glared daggers at him, but returned to the game. The next couple were better—she hit the board instead of the wall—but nowhere near the bullseye.

“My turn,” he said softly, sitting down his beer and grabbing the darts. Emma downed the rest of her drink as she watched him; he could _feel_ her giving him a once over. He decided to make a bit of a show of it, taking his time, letting her look her fill. His first shot hit the bullseye, and the next two were close, just outside.

“How did you do that?” Emma asked, pouting adorably.

“It's all in the wrist, love. Care for a demonstration?”

“Sure.” They each took a sip from their drinks—Emma's third since arriving—and Killian pulled her in front of him at the starting line. He pressed the darts into her hand, standing close behind her.

“Now, you're right handed, so you want to take a small step back,” he said softly, his breath hot on her ear. Emma followed his instructions, swallowing audibly. “There's a good girl. Now give me your hand.” Emma held up her right hand, a lone dart squeezed between her fingers. “Loosen your grip, there's no need to kill it.” The white disappeared from her fingers. Killian smiled. “Now watch.” He curled his hand around hers, showing her the motion. “Feel that? The gentle curve through the air? When you get to it's highest point let go and follow through.” Unable to resist any longer, he brushed his lips lightly over her neck. She shivered. “Shall we do it together?”

“Okay.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. If he'd been further away he'd have missed it.

“On the count of three.” He pulled her arm back slowly, counting. On three she let go, Killian guiding her hand.

“We did it!” she cried happily, seeing where the dart landed. It wasn't a bullseye, but it was close. Much better than her previous effort. Killian grunted in surprised when she threw her arms around him and kissed him hard on the mouth. He held her close, inhaling her sweet spicy scent, enjoying the way she felt pressed up against him.

“So you did, lass,” he said with a grin, tugging lightly on the ends of her hair. “Would you like to try it by yourself?”

“Stand back and let me work,” she declared confidently. Emma flashed him a gorgeous smile and Killian felt that pull again, the desire to simply be around her. She lit up the whole room.

They got into a tournament of sorts with another couple, people Killian had never met before, Philip and Aurora. It seemed to take the edge off talking about themselves; they could just get caught up in the game, share a drink. Emma switched to rum and coke; Killian got another beer. They were up 3 rounds to 2, when Emma excused herself to the bathroom. She came back a little wobbly, wiping at her mouth.

“Everything alright, love?”

Emma nodded. “Yeah. I just had to pee.” He wasn't sure if the flush that crossed her cheeks was due to the alcohol she'd consumed or her crude language. She took a pull on his beer. “You have no idea how good it feels to just  _say_ that I have to pee. My mother would be  _shocked_ .”

“A bit prim and proper is she?”

“It's always designer this and designer that and charity dinners and gossip. It's so fucking _boring_.”

“And what would the princess rather be doing?”

Emma scowled at him. “The  _princess_ would rather be at work. Actually being useful.” Her face softened. “I just want something I do to matter, to change things. Is that dumb?”

Killian cradled her cheek. “No, lass. It's not dumb at all. In fact, I think it's rather admirable.” Philip held out the darts for him. “Hold that thought, love. Be right back.” He took his turn, firing off two bullseyes in quick succession, winning the game and the impromptu tournament. They said good night to their fellow drinkers and moved to a table in the corner. “You were saying?”

Emma shook her head, downing the rest of her rum and coke, waving for another. “Nevermind.”

It was Killian's turn to frown. “I'd love to hear more about you, Emma.”

“You sound like my friend Elsa.” Her words were getting slurred; he was going to cut her off after he next drink.

“Does she know you're here?”

“With you?” Killian nodded. “She was the one who pushed me to finally call you.”

“I'll have to thank her.”

“For what?”

“For giving me a chance to spend time with you.”

“I'm really not that interesting.”

“Now I know that's not true. I happen to find you _quite_ interesting.”

“Are you sure that engine block didn't fall on your head?”

“Quite certain. Unless you'd like to check.” He bent his head toward her, waiting expectantly. Emma hesitated for only a moment, then brought her fingers up to comb through his hair. She lightly massaged his scalp; Killian growled low in his throat. Even that relatively innocent touch sent electricity through his veins. He also got a good look at her legs, pale and long under the table, making him want to run his hands over them. Emma scooted closer, her fingers teasing his neck down into his collar. “Emma...”

“Yeah?”

“If you don't stop that, I'm going to drag you outside and kiss you senseless.”

“Promise?”

“Minx.” He raised his head, pure mischief in her green eyes. He threw some cash onto the table for their drinks and grabbed her hand. Emma giggled as they left, Killian guiding them around the corner of the building. Emma pounced on him as soon as they were alone, pressing him against the wall, kissing him before he could protest. Not that he would. He didn't mind her being aggressive. At all.

Emma rubbed herself against him, her hands everywhere. She nipped at his pulse, soothing it with her tongue as her delicate hand palmed his cock. Killian moaned, head falling back against the brick. It felt so good he almost missed her yanking on his belt, trying to get into his pants. Her kisses were sloppy and rough, leaving a mark on his neck.

“Love...Emma, slow down,” he chided gently, trying to still her hands.

“Why?” But even in the low light Killian could see her eyes were glassy and not only from desire. Kissing her while drunk was one thing, but she was unsteady and too far gone for more.

“Emma...fuck,” he cursed, as she wrenched her hand away and squeezed his aching cock.

“See? You want me.”

“Not... _shit_ , not like _this_.”

She pulled back, a frown marring her gorgeous features. It killed him to push her away, but he didn't want to be something she regretted. He wouldn't take advantage of her inebriated state. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“No, _no._ But Emma, you're drunk.”

“So?”

Tentatively, he reached out and cupped her face. “When we do this, I want you to remember it.”

She bit her lip. “You do?”

He wondered where on earth she'd get such a strange notion from. “Aye. You're not just some girl to me, love.”

“Oh.” She swayed on her feet, the effects of the alcohol she had consumed. Killian caught her, wrapping his arm around her.

“Come on, let's take you home.” She tried to shrink away from him, clearly embarrassed, but he just held her tighter. He didn't want her to be self conscious with him; she clearly had trouble trusting people. She spoke of her friend, Elsa; was there anyone else she trusted? To not judge her? To be herself around? Probably not.

Killian helped her into the Jeep; Emma swayed again and it just reinforced his conviction that she was in no state to be sleeping with him. He'd had sex in various states of intoxication before, but never to this point. It was likely she wouldn't remember much of this and that was a line he refused to cross.

Killian pulled out into traffic, glancing at Emma. She wasn't looking at him, but he couldn't decide if that was because she was still embarrassed or if she was dozing. He tried to be careful, to not jostle them too much, but the road was rough, filled with potholes. Emma groaned, her head falling back against the headrest.

“Killian?”

“Aye?”

“Oh god, can you pull over?”

He didn't even answer, pulling onto the shoulder immediately. Emma wrenched open the door and leaned over, retching. Killian cursed; he had to wait for the traffic to clear enough for him to open his own door, hopping down and hurrying to her side. Ignoring the smell, he lifted her out of the Jeep and set her down. Emma crouched in the short grass, still gagging and Killian pulled her hair back for her.

They stayed like for some minutes, as Emma emptied the contents of her stomach. “Ugh,” she muttered, shivering.

“Feeling better?” Killian asked gently.

She nodded, staggering to her feet. Her heel got caught in a clump of grass and she lost her balance, arms flailing. Killian caught her again, pulling her into his chest. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, lass.” Once he was sure she was really okay, he lifted her back into the Jeep, ignoring her feeble protests. “I've got you, Emma.”

She smiled weakly and closed her eyes. Killian skimmed her cheek with his thumb tenderly, hit hard by a desire to look after her. He couldn't just leave her alone. So he got back into his Jeep and headed for his place. It was closer than hers, and he wouldn't feel like he was prying into her things. By the time they arrived, Emma was out cold, sleeping off the lingering effects of their evening.

He had to carry her up the stairs to his apartment; it took some contortions, but he managed to unlock the door and get her inside. He took her to his bed, laying her down as gently as he could. There was a small stain on her dress that he hadn't noticed when they were at the bar. He'd have to change her. Running his fingers through his hair, he headed for his beat up dresser and pulled out an old t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts with anchors on them.

Returning to her, he paused, considering how best to do this. This was _not_ how he'd imagined having her in his bed for the first time. _Stop stalling, Jones._ Carefully, he lifted the sundress over her head, gulping when he saw what she was wearing underneath. God, she was even more stunning then he'd imagined.

“One day soon, lass,” he said softly. “I promise.” He kissed the back of her hand, then went about putting his clothes on her. They looked much better on her. He spread the lightest blanket he had over her, tucking her in. “Sleep well, Emma.”

Satisfied she was taken care of, Killian headed to the bathroom himself. He stripped off his dirty clothes and showered,washing away the stench of stale beer and sick. He put on another set of boxers and shirt, grabbing another blanket for the couch. He didn't want her to freak out when she woke up, at least not more.

He just hoped she wouldn't be too upset with him in the morning.

* * *

Emma woke up to a pounding head and a familiar scent. She groaned, the light filtering through her closed eyelids. She rolled over, deeper into the pillow, hoping to fall asleep and get a respite from the ache in her head. But as she inhaled the musky salty scent, she realized with a start that she wasn't in her own bed.

What the hell?

She sat up—too fast—head swimming. It took a few deep breaths before she could open her eyes. When she did, Emma saw an unfamiliar room, a couch at the far end. Where was she? And what had happened last night? She remembered Killian picking her up, the way her mouth had watered when she saw him. She remembered the bar, the darts. After that things got hazy. It had been a nice date until then.

Emma looked down at herself; she was wearing an oversized faded cotton t-shirt and some boxers. Definitely _not_ hers. Killian's? She hoped so or she was very screwed. He wouldn't leave her alone, right? Granted, she didn't know him very well, but her gut told her that he was a decent guy. It was why she'd finally heeded Elsa's advice in the first place.

“Okay, Emma,” she said to herself, wincing at the sound of her own voice. She needed some aspirin, stat. “Time to go find out what happened.”

She wobbled a bit when she stood, more the effects of the hangover than anything else. The smell of bacon and coffee wafted back to her and her stomach lurched. A few more deep breaths and she was fine again, taking a tentative step toward the smell.

“Killian?” she called, hoping she was right.

He came out from around the corner. “There you are, love. I was beginning to think you'd sleep the day away.”

She let out a sigh of relief. Then groaned. “Ow.”

He was at her side in an instant. “Aye, you've likely got a wicked hangover, lass. Here, let me.” He allowed her to lean on him as he guided her to what appeared to be his kitchen. It was tiny compared to the one in her bungalow, but seemed serviceable enough. “Sit, I've got something that help with that.”

Emma sat on the stool and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. She hadn't felt like this in a while. College, maybe? She'd had enough hangovers during that time to last her a lifetime. Perhaps she'd been more nervous on their date than she thought.

Killian tapped her on the wrist and she looked up. He had a glass of...something in his hand. It was thick and green and looked disgusting. “Don't think about it, just drink it,” he advised. “You'll feel better, I swear.”

“What is it?”

“My own concoction for hangovers. It works. Best pinch your nose though. Smells bloody awful, tastes worse.”

“Do I even want to know what's in it?”

“Probably not. Now drink up.”

She looked at him skeptically, but accepted the glass. She nearly gagged on the smell alone. And he expected her to _drink_ it? Ew. But her head throbbed again and she decided to bite the bullet and just _do_ it. Emma pinched her nose with one hand, then lifted the glass to her lips. Killian was right; it tasted terrible, thick and gloppy, but she downed all of it.

Killian handed her a glass of water to wash it down, taking the used one. “Just give it a few minutes and you'll be good as new.”

“Thanks.”

“It's no trouble, love. Make this stuff for Will all the bloody time.”

“Likes to drink, does he?”

“You've no idea.”

Emma buried her face in her arms, waiting for Killian's cure to take affect. She heard him bustling in his small kitchen, careful to keep the sounds to a minimum. Out of consideration for her? So he was hot and sweet too? Where the hell did she _find_ him? Guys like him didn't exist in her world.

She remembered the last time she'd woken up in a strange bed with no memory of how she'd gotten there. Only that time she'd been naked. She'd been out with Neal the night before; they were at a party. She didn't remember much past that, but she must have agreed to sleep with him. It had been their first time she didn't even remember it. He'd treated her to breakfast in bed, and she didn't think anything of it. It wasn't like she hadn't had sex after a few drinks before that.

It wasn't until much later that she recognized Neal's behavior for what it was.

Her head starting to clear, she looked at Killian. “Did anything happen after we played darts?” she asked.

He put down his coffee mug. “We talked for a bit, which led to you trying to maul me in an alley.” When Emma gasped, he took her hand. “I swear, nothing happened, even though you wanted to. I would _never_ take advantage of you like that, lass. I started to take you home, but you threw up on the side of the road. After that, I brought you here. I hope you don't mind.”

Her eyes flickered to the hickey on his neck. “I did that?”

He smiled. “Aye, you were quite...aggressive, love. Which I am all for, when everyone has their wits about them. For future reference.”

Emma blushed. She believed him; there was too much sincerity in his voice. “Thanks for taking care of me. Sorry I was such a mess, I'm usually not.”

“As I said last night, you've got nothing to be sorry for. I had a good time.”

“Even with the drunkenness and throwing up?”

“We've all been there at some point or other, Emma.”

“Yeah.” She let go of him reluctantly and stretched her arms over her head. “That disgusting stuff actually seems to be working. I feel better.”

“Think you can eat something? I made bacon and toast, but I have cereal if you'd rather have that. Not exactly four star cuisine though.”

“Maybe some toast? That bacon smells great.”

“Coming right up,” he replied, flashing her a grin.

So he didn't seem to think less of her for her display the night before. She wondered what would have happened if she hadn't been drunk. Would they have had sex? Probably. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see they were _very_ attracted to each other. And up until her inebriation had gotten the better of her, she'd had a really great time. Killian was funny. And smart. And really crazy hot.

“Do you think we could go out again?” she blurted.

Killian sat a plate of buttered toast and bacon in front of her. “I'd like that, Emma.”

“Really?”

“I told you; I had a great time last night. Having you in my bed? Well, let's just say _that_ is something that definitely need to be repeated.” He winked at her.

She took his teasing in stride, munching on some toast. Her stomach was settling down and her head didn't hurt at all now. He got her a glass of grapefruit juice and they ate in companionable silence. She took the time to glance around his place, get to know him a bit without putting her foot in her mouth.

It wasn't big, just a studio. The bedroom was in the back with a small bathroom off to the right. The part closest to them had the couch she'd noticed earlier and flat screen TV with a blu ray player. There was a stack of blu rays and DVDs, but she was too far away to read the titles. Over in the corner sat what appeared to be a desk; it was little more than an old door and some saw horses. His laptop sat on top, open but not on. There were papers and books scattered everywhere, no organization that she could see.

“What are you working on?” she asked, sipping on her juice.

Killian followed her eyes. “My master's thesis. Sorry, the place is a bit of a mess.”

“What's it about? You said you were studying marine biology.”

“I'm studying the effects of the surfing competitions on the marine life of the North Shore. There are a lot of endangered species around here.”

“I didn't know that.”

“Most people don't. They just see the beaches and whatnot.”

She wanted to ask how he got into marine biology, but that would lead to personal questions about how he got here. She _did_ remember that he wasn't crazy about personal questions, which she understood. “Maybe you could show me sometime.”

His face lit up and she knew she'd said the right thing. “I think that could be arranged, lass.”

“But maybe we could keep our next date...um, low impact? Since I seem to keep ruining your stuff.”

Killian laughed. “Low impact, got it.” He took her plate “And I find your clumsiness to be endearing, love.”

“You're weird.”

“I think I'm rather charming, thank you very much.”

Emma didn't reply, anything she said would just feed his ego. Besides, he was right; he was _charming._ She really liked him. Holy lord, she really _did_ like him.

“I think I should probably get home soon. And you need your clothes back.”

“Let me get this cleaned up and I'll drive you.”

“You don't have to...”

“Emma please. Let me do the gentlemanly thing and drive you home. It's actually on my way.”

“Okay.”

His clothes were big enough on her that she didn't look like a hobo as she climbed into his Jeep. She had a plastic sack that had her soiled dress and small purse in her lap. It only took them fifteen minutes to drive to her bungalow; traffic was light for a Thursday morning. She was getting used to the Jeep because she managed to get down with no trouble. Killian walked with her to the door, scratching behind his ear.

“I had a good time, Emma, truly.”

“So did I.” She gave him a tentative smile, unsure of what else to say.

“This may sound daft, but may I kiss you good night?”

“You know it's morning, right?” she teased. She leaned in before he could reply, pressing her lips gently to his. She only pulled back a fraction before she was in his arms, mouths fused together. There didn't seem to be any other speed for them; every time their lips touched it felt like fire. She'd never known kisses like his. It took a while for them to pull back, still breathing each other's air.

“We'll have that second date soon, lass,” he promised.

“Third,” she corrected.

Killian smiled that gorgeous dimpled smile. “Aye, third.” One final brief kiss and he let her go, walking briskly to his Jeep. Emma waved goodbye and headed into her bungalow. She pressed her back against the door and exhaled heavily.

Just what had she gotten herself into?


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh, that's _much_ better,” Emma mumbled, easing herself into the tub.

After Killian had left, Emma's first order of business was to call Elsa. Elsa had alternatively cheered and commiserated with her friend about the date. Emma still felt a measure of embarrassment about her behavior, especially getting wasted to the point of throwing up. That was the  _worst_ . She didn't even see how Killian could  _look_ at her.

But he did and a lot more besides if the way her lips had tingled long after he'd gone was any indication.

She'd sacked out on her couch, still tired, flipping channels. She must have fallen asleep—still in Killian's borrowed clothes—because the next thing she knew there was an awful crick in her back and shoulder. Which was what had led her to the bathroom. A good old fashioned bubble bath was just what she needed to rest and reset.

Soft music—one of Chopin's nocturnes, it was one of the few things about her mother that stuck—played in the background as Emma allowed the very warm water soothe her knotted muscles. Her eyes fell closed as she leaned her head back against the edge of the great porcelain tub. There  _was_ a hot tub in the enormous bathroom, but she didn't want all those jets and ripples. All she wanted was to lay back and relax.

She tried not to think about Killian. She really did. But his scent clung to her skin. Every time she reached for the soap to wash, she hesitated. There was no rational reason for it; she was going to see him again. It was likely, given their encounters so far, that this wouldn't be the last time she smelled like him.

It was a musky vaguely salty scent that sent shivers down her spine. She was fairly certain he didn't wear cologne—she knew them all—so this was purely  _him_ . The salt made sense; he worked with things in the ocean. But he also worked with his hands, fixing cars, trucks, who knew what else. Strong calloused hands that felt good on her skin.

Emma bit her lip, the warmth from her bath fogging the edges of her awareness. She could remember the way he'd touched her, delicate and needy at the same time, drawing the tiniest of reactions out of her.

She wished she hadn't been drunk last night so she could remember precisely what had happened in the alley. And what surely would have happened after.

A knot of desire bloomed at the apex of her thighs; Emma squeezed her legs together hoping to ease it. She shouldn't be fantasizing about him. Not after her behavior. Her body refused to listen to her. An image of his large mechanic's hands rose behind her closed lids, those hands caressing her stomach, along her legs. She'd caught him staring at her legs a few times, before things got hazy. She'd worn that dress with precisely that in mind.

Would he be gentle? Did she  _want_ him to be? She wasn't made of glass. And what she felt when they were close...that wasn't gentle either. It was passion; it ebbed and flowed, driven by his hands, his mouth. 

Emma's hand slid underneath the water, skimming over the swell of her breast. Her breathing got shallow as she touched herself, the nipple hardening in the warm water. She did remember his mouth on her, the way he nibbled and sucked on her breasts. A jolt of want shot through her and Emma moaned softly. She'd felt it even then, the raw hunger, the desire to ride him until they were spent. She couldn't remember being that attracted to someone  _that_ fast, but Killian seemed to bring it out in her. Effortlessly, without even trying.

Her hips rolled in tub, the water swishing gently over her aching clit. Emma licked her lips, trying to imagine how he would touch her, his hands on her body. Her other hand dived into water, brushing her mound. She spread her legs as far as the tub would allow, not much, but just enough. Emma moaned again, the pads of her fingers sliding through her slit, the water and her arousal slick. Would he want her like this? Naked in the bathtub? Would he want to  _watch_ her? She'd never done that before and the idea turned her on more than it should. Putting herself on display was everything she hated.

But not with him.

Emma inhaled sharply as she imagined him there, hands resting on her knees, watching her touch herself. Her fingers moved faster, teasing her clit, her entrance. Water lapped around her, some spilling on the floor, but Emma was too far gone to care. She remembered his voice in her ear, low and guttural, encouraging her,  _wanting_ her. She whimpered, the pressure rising, eyes squeezed shut. She plucked at her nipple, thinking of him, his hands, wishing they were the ones touching her, bringing her pleasure.

“Oh, oh, _oh_ ,” she gasped, the dam breaking at last, warmth flooding her. Her fingers kept moving, drawing it out, making her shiver. “Oh my god.”

Still shaking, she drew her hand away, sinking down in the water, her skin flushed. It was a contrast to the cooling water, the bubbles nearly gone now. It was several more minutes before her wits returned, the full weight of what she'd done.

She couldn't remember the last time there was a face, a voice, a  _memory_ , to fuel her fantasies. Since her breakup with Neal, she'd gotten very well acquainted with her hand, her toys. None of which were there with her. She could—and did—go long stretches without sex, but Killian seemed to have turned her libido up to like, twelve.

Which was perfectly fine with her. If they ever got to the sex part, that is.

They would. She would make sure of it.

Emma sighed, finally reaching for the soap. She scrubbed her skin thoroughly before the water got any cooler, then got out. Her pruned fingers fumbled with the towel, Emma snarling before she got it untangled. She dried off and wrapped it tightly around her, heading for the oversized double vanity. She brushed her teeth, scrubbed her face, along with all the other bits of her nightly routine. She missed them the night before, passed out in Killian's bed.

She was brushing her damp hair when her phone rang. It was Killian. “Hello?”

“Hello, Emma.” There were a series of harsh metallic sounds, then a thump, then silence. “There much better.”

“Where are you?”

“I was still in the garage when I dialed. Sorry. In our break room now, such as it is.”

“You're still at work?”

“Aye. Like to be until late, I'm afraid.”

“Oh.” She tried not to sound disappointed, but he had promised her a third date. One that would hopefully have a happier ending then the last.

“Don't fret, love. I've still got plans for us. You busy tomorrow night?”

She pretended to think, to consider, just because she could. “I don't  _think_ so,” she hedged, biting back a smile he couldn't see.

“Because you've got so much going on,” he said dryly.

“I was having a perfectly nice vacation before I met you, you know.”

“Nice is for old people, love. You want spectacular.”

“And you think you can give me that?” She thought about her little tub fantasy; her vacation from her life was already far more interesting than she'd imagined.

“Over and over again, lass.” His voice dripped with seduction and want, his accent doing things to her. Emma had to cross her legs to ease the ache.

She blew out a breath she hoped he didn't hear. “I think you're all talk.”

Killian's low chuckle crackled over the line. “Oh, I'm sure we'll get to that too, just you wait.”

God, was there  _anything_ he couldn't turn into an innuendo? Not that she wanted him to stop, because...no. This was the most fun she'd had in months. “Perhaps you'll get your chance.”

“I'm sure I will.” There was some more metal scraping. “Speaking of which, are you allergic to anything?”

Emma's brow creased in confusion. “Um, not that I know of, why?”

“All part of the aforementioned plans,” he said cryptically. “Low impact, as requested.”

“Do I get any other clues?” She smiled into the mirror, winding a lock of damp hair around her finger. It was a nervous habit that her mother had tried to break her of, in vain.

“Hmmm, I don't think so. Wouldn't want to give away the game.”

“Is this a game?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Does it feel like a game to you?”

“I asked you first.” A bit childish perhaps, but suddenly she needed to know. To get some kind of sense that she wasn't the only one feeling that connection.

“No, lass. Definitely not a game.” His voice was quiet now, no trace of bravado.

Emma let out a silent thankful breath. “But you still won't tell me?”

“Where's the fun in that?”

“Fine. Don't tell me.” She pouted, even though he couldn't see her.

“Wear something casual, we won't be going far, I promise.”

“Okay.” She was definitely intrigued now. “But next time _I'm_ planning the date.”

“Now's who's certain there will be a next time?”

Emma cringed, realizing she'd probably blown her cover of indifference. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you three years old now?”

“Trust me, love, I am _not_ a boy by any stretch of the imagination.” Emma wet her lips, remembering the thickness of him between her thighs. No, Killian definitely was _not_ a boy.

“Who says I've imagined anything?”

“If you've thought about me half as much as I've thought about you,” he admitted, “then I know you have.”

“You've thought about me?”

Killian let out a long exhale. “Aye, more than I should.”  _What did that mean?_ “Blast it, I've got to get back,” he said, sounding annoyed. “May I pick you up at seven, love?”

“Sure, see you then.”

“Goodbye, Emma.”

“Bye, Killian.” They hung up, leaving Emma both eager and confused. Whatever was going on between them, it seemed like neither of them was really prepared for it or had any idea how to go about it. It was exciting and frightening at the same time.

* * *

Killian slid his phone into his pocket, emotions swirling in his head. What had he been _thinking?_ Admitting how much she was getting to him was dangerous. _She_ was dangerous, but he couldn't seem to help himself. His employment status aside, Emma already had a life. Sure, she'd voiced some frustration with it, but that didn't mean anything. Just could decide to up and go home at any moment, just as easily as she'd decided to run from her problems. She was rich; it wasn't like she _needed_ to work, not like he did. Killian had to work to pay his rent, buy clothes, food.

She had nothing to hold her here. And where would that leave him?

Shaking off the thought, he headed back out to the garage. He was working on one of the service vehicles; the suspension was going. Too many ruts one the access roads, back where the guests didn't venture. But as always, as long as the main roads were smooth, Regina didn't care.

He put the truck on the hydraulic jack and flipped the switch. In moments, the tires were at his eye level and he went about removing them so he could get a better idea of what he was dealing with. Perhaps he wouldn't have to replace everything.

The fourth tire bounced a little on the concrete; he heard someone calling his name. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. _“What?”_

“Calm down, mate. It's only me.” Robin came out from around the side of the truck, frowning. “Something wrong?”

Killian shook his head, perhaps a little too quickly. “Not a thing, just focused, I guess.” He often got in a zone while he was working; Will liked to joke that World War III could come through and Killian wouldn't notice.

Robin seemed to accept his white lie. “Well, I just got a call from one of the gardeners, his truck might have lost a brake line, ran into a palm tree.”

“Any other damage?” Body work wasn't his specialty.

“According to Jefferson, he managed to save it with only a graze.”

“Are we sure he's telling the truth?” Jefferson had a bit of a reputation; some people thought he was mad. He certainly was...eccentric, to say the least, but Killian liked him well enough.

Robin shrugged. “You know him as well as I do. Won't really know until we get it back here.”

“You off to fetch him?”

“Soon, I wanted to run something else by you first.” Robin had a look in his eye Killian knew well. He was matchmaking again.

“Robin,” he said warningly. “We've talked about this.”

“Now honestly, Killian,” Robin huffed. “You don't even know what I was going to say!”

“No, but I know you well enough to get the gist. Stop trying to fix me up!”

“But _why_? You have no life outside of this place—no, don't try to get cute and bring _Will_ into this, you know as well as I do that his idea of a relationship is—”

“A shot of whiskey and willing lass?” Will sauntered into the garage like he owned the place, hands shoved in his pockets. “Anyway, mate, yer wasting yer time. Jones here's already found himself a proper lady friend.”

Robin looked stunned. “You _did?!_ When? And why am I just hearing about this now?”

Killian rolled his eyes. “The bloody hell is wrong with you two? You hover more than a sodding mother hen!”

“We're just worried about you,” Robin said, a bit hurt. “We're your friends.”

“He's worried about ya,” Will corrected. “I just think ya need ta get laid.”

“Will,” Robin admonished.

“And ya do too, mate,” Will continued, as if Robin hadn't spoken. “Yer too tightly wound by half.”

“I have a _son_ ,” Robin reminded him. “I can't just go galavanting off!”

“So mothering Jones here is the answer?” Will scoffed.

“Hey!” Killian cut in. “Right here, you berk.” Then he turned to Robin. “Although, the idiot does have a point, Robin. Why aren't _you_ dating?” Marian had been dead for a couple of years now; his friend didn't seem to be mourning her still. He accepted she was gone.

“We're not talking about me,” Robin grumbled.

“Well, we're bloody well not talking about _me,”_ Killian spat. “I've heard enough of it from _this_ one.” He jabbed a finger at Will. “What are you even doing here anyway?”

“Came to see if I'd left my other uniform in yer Jeep,” he replied, shrugging. “But this was more fun.”

Killian sighed, digging in his pocket for his keys. “Go. And bring them back!” he called to Will's retreating back.

“Do you think he'd ever going to get out of this rut?” Robin asked, watching Will walk away as well.

“Is that what you think I'm in? A rut?” It came out more biting than he intended.

“You are entirely different. I was starting to wonder if you even _liked_ lasses,” Robin said, very seriously. “Which would be completely fine.”

Killian glared, realizing Robin was just taking the mickey out of him. “I would _think_ my so called friend would know me better than that.”

Robin laughed. “Who knows, perhaps you had a crush on _me._ Roguish older man.”

“No offense, mate, but hell and no.”

Robin's eyes twinkled with mirth, but he shook his head. “Pity, that. So who's this lass our Will was talking about?”

“Probably no one. Been out a couple of times, no big deal.” There was no way in _hell_ he was telling Robin who Emma was. Robin might not turn him in, but he wasn't above laying on the fatherly guilt trip.

“Killian, you never see _anyone_ more than once. And rarely at that.”

“She's just a girl, Robin. I like her. Can we leave it at that?” He knew full well Emma wasn't _just_ anything, but he truly didn't want to talk about it. Not when his own feelings on it were so conflicted. He knew he shouldn't want her, but he couldn't stop. The way he felt when he was around her...or when he thought about her...he didn't want to give it up. It was selfish, too selfish, but damn it, he'd earned a bit of selfish.

He'd been alone for so long.

Robin held up his hands in surrender. “Fair enough. I'll leave you to it then.”

“Thanks.”

There was a light knock on the metal frame of the oversized doorway. “Mr. Locksley?” a crisp female voice asked. “Might I have a word?”

Killian groaned inwardly. It was the resort manager, Regina Mills. She hardly ever came by the garages, too busy with some _other_ area to bother with them. But now the woman who wouldn't hesitate to fire him for his secret was standing ten feet from him.

Robin smiled. It struck Killian as odd; he'd never seen that smile on his friend's face before. Strained but happy? So weird. “Indeed, Ms. Mills. I was just on my way to retrieve one of our trucks from the gardens, but it can wait.”

“Good,” Regina replied, stepping deeper into the garage. Her power business suit was pressed and clean; her hair and makeup made her look older than she was. Killian knew her to be in her mid thirties. She was attractive if one liked a power hungry demeanor. It was more like she was the sodding President than a simple hotel manager. “There have been several complaints I've been meaning to discuss with you.”

_Complaints?_ Could the witch already know? Killian didn't see how. He didn't drive his Jeep all over the property, just to and from the garage. If he needed to go somewhere on the property, he used one of the official vehicles. But his Jeep would be recognizable, due to the skull and crossbones painted on the doors.  _Fuck._

He went back to his task, his back to the couple as they talked in hushed tones. He strained his ears trying to hear what they were saying, but he could only make out a handful of words. None of them were his name, so he chose to take it as a good sign.

“What's the Evil Queen doing here?” Will hissed, nearly scaring Killian to death.

“Bloody _hell_ ,” Killian whispered, kicking his friend in the shin. “Shut _up_ for once in your life!”

“Jeez, mate, ya'd think I'd ta killed your cat or somethin'. Oh wait. Ya don't have one.” Will scowled and handed Killian back his keys. “Next time I'll just pick them off ya. Faster anyway.”

“Can you just _go?”_ He was still trying to hear what Robin and Regina were saying.

“What's gotten into you?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar. Takes one to know.”

“Is there a problem here?” Regina cut in, looking annoyed at being interrupted.

Killian glared at Will, then stood to his fullest height. “Will was just leaving, weren't you?”

Will scowled but nodded. “Yeah. Just...ya know...visitin' a friend.”

“Is it a custom where you come from to interrupt people during their working hours?”

“Had ta get my uniform out of his car if ya must know,” Will said, staring her down, unafraid. Killian couldn't count the number of times they'd gotten into tussles due to that look. Only this time they could both get _fired_ , as opposed to black eyes.

“What was it doing there?”

“Is that yer business?”

Regina bristled. “Impertinent too. What, were you raised in a barn?”

Robin stepped in. “I believe what Will here is trying to say is that his friend Killian gave him a ride to work last week when he had car trouble. You just left the uniform there by accident, didn't you, Will?”

“You know him?” Regina snapped.

Robin nodded. “Well, there aren't many ex-pat Englishmen in this part of Oahu,” he said reasonably. “We have to stick together.”

Killian held his breath as Regina processed that. “Yes, well, next time get your clothes back on your own time,” she warned, nodding at Will. “Now, if you don't mind, Mr. Locksley, I have other matters to attend to. I trust you have things well in hand.”

“Yes, Miss. It will be taken care of immediately.” That didn't really make Killian feel better. He tossed a glance at Will, who shrugged and headed back to his own car. Ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach, Killian went back to the faulty suspension he'd been working on. If Robin wanted to talk to him, he would.

Robin disappeared for a  _while_ ; Killian thought he saw him slip back to his office out of the corner of his eye. He was replacing the rear driver's side strut when his boss reappeared. “So I've got good news and bad news.”

“I really hate that saying. Out with it, Locksley.”

“The good news is that you're getting a raise. And some more hours, if you want them. The bad news is I had to let Smee go.”

“Smee? Why?” The man was short and fat and a _bit_ lazy, but Killian had never expected him to get fired.

“Regina's orders. She didn't give me the particulars.”

“Just ordered you to be the one to swing the hatchet. There is something wrong with that woman.”

“She's just doing her job, Killian. This is a huge resort.”

“Did you know she fired two people in the laundry for spreading rumors about her last year?”

Robin shifted uncomfortably. “That's not our problem. As long as we do  _our_ jobs...”

“Fine. When do these new hours start?” He had his research...and Emma, but he could definitely use the extra cash.

“Tomorrow?”

Killian shook his head. “I've already made plans.”

“With your girlfriend?”

“She is _not_ my girlfriend! We've been out _twice_ , for Christ's sake!” Granted, they'd been out only twice and he knew the look on her face when she orgasmed. And her smile. And the way she kissed, kissed like it was the last thing she would ever do. _Stop it, Jones._

Robin just grinned. “Okay. I can get John to cover.”

“He won't even fit under the cars!” John was not exactly a small man. In fact, he was very large and portly.

“So we'll raise them up,” Robin countered. “Besides, this is only until I can hire someone else, then things should go back to normal.”

“Good, I've got too much bloody well going on already,” Killian muttered.

“I won't forget this, Killian. You need _anything_ you ask, okay?”

“Get outta here, mate. Jefferson probably thinks you drove right off the beach.”

“ _Shit,”_ Robin cursed, yanking out his keys. “See you later.” Sprinting for the tow truck, he was gone.

_Great_ , he thought as he went back to work.  _One more thing to juggle...._

* * *

“Where are we going?” Emma asked curiously. Killian's Jeep wove through the resort traffic; wherever they were going it wasn't there.

“Impatient lass, aren't you?” he said, flashing her a grin.

“Maybe I'm just not crazy about surprises,” she countered. She looked around, but she didn't know the roads well enough yet to just _know_ where they were going.

“That would be a pity.”

“Why?”

“Because you'd be sucking all the fun out of life, love.”

“There's nothing wrong with a little structure.” Okay, now she sounded defensive.

“Of course not, you should leave a little room for spontaneity.”

“Like flying to Hawaii on a whim?”

He smiled conspiratorially at her just before the light changed. “Exactly.”

It sounded so good when he put it like that. Perhaps she could learn to embrace her more spontaneous side. Emma didn't question him again, merely enjoying the drive. It took nearly a half hour to get to where they were going, which turned out to be a field. A field on the low rise about a mile back from the beach. She could just make out a handful of surfers taking advantage of the last hour or so if daylight off in the distance.

Wearing her boots rather than heels, Emma climbed down from the Jeep herself, eyes popping at the picturesque view. The sun was off to her left, still just above the treeline. A thick carpet of green grass under her feet, getting scrubbier as she looked out toward the beach and the ocean, waves lapping at the shore. Behind her was a lush forest of trees—palm and otherwise—stretching up to the foot of the nearby peak.

There was no one else around; it felt secluded even though they were out in the open. She wanted to look everywhere at once, only stopping when she caught sight of Killian's face. He looked both happy and nervous, a question in his blue eyes.

“It's beautiful,” she said, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“A good surprise then?”

“Yeah.” Central Park had nothing on this.

Emma did a little exploring while Killian pulled some things from his Jeep. He'd kept the backseat covered with a blanket and as he worked, Emma discovered why. He'd brought them a picnic, complete with a basket. That explained why he'd wanted to know if she had any allergies. Alongside the basket was a cooler, a cloth bag and the blanket.

“You did all this yourself?” she asked, helping him stretch out the blanket on a relatively flat patch of ground.

“Most of it.” He made it sound like it was no big deal, but Emma could tell it was. His shoulders were tenser than usual, his smile didn't _quite_ reach his eyes. Was he nervous? Was he afraid she wouldn't like something?

Emma crossed the small space, putting a hand on his arm. “Hey, this is _amazing_. I've never been on a date like this before.”

“Really?”

“Not much open space in New York,” she reminded him.

“Well, I'm glad we can remedy that here,” he said, his smile a lot more genuine this time. He carefully brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it; Emma didn't know people still did that, it left her a little flustered.

“Yeah, well, it's...um, nice.”

“It'll get better,” he promised. “Shall we?”

Emma nodded wordlessly, allowing Killian to lower her to the blanket. She arranged her black skirt demurely, wondering what had possessed her to wear it. It wasn't fancy or anything, just a simple black skirt that swished pleasantly around her thighs, coupled with a sleeveless white blouse that wound around her neck.

She happened to glance up at that moment; Killian was staring at her, a mixture of awe, desire and something she couldn't identify reflected in his eyes. _That_ was why she'd worn this particular outfit. She really liked the way he looked at her. Like she was the only person for a thousand miles. It gave her butterflies, the _good_ kind.

“Are we planning on eating at some point?” she asked, smirking up at him.

“I didn't bring any ice cream,” he said, unashamed of being caught. He plopped down next to her, keeping some space between them.

Emma's cheeks warmed, remembering. Ice cream would never quite be the same again, would it? “That's okay. I'm sure you've brought something equally delicious.”

“That, love, I can absolutely guarantee.” He looked her up and down, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Emma inhaled sharply, breaking his gaze before she did something rash. She really wanted to enjoy this date. If she kissed him, she might not be able to stop.

“So what do we have?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the ocean.

“A little of this, a little of that.” Killian dug inside the bag, pulling out some paper plates and to Emma's surprise, a couple of wine glasses. She turned when she heard the clink.

“Wine? Are we sure that's a good idea?”

Killian grinned, handing her the glass. “Just a glass or two, love. I want you with me the whole evening.”

“I want that too.” After the way their last date ended, she really wanted to know where it would have led. She knew she liked spending time with him, would _being_ with him be just as good? There was only one way to find out.

Killian was quiet as he unpacked the rest of their feast. There was a bottle of wine, naturally, along with small hoagie like sandwiches. There were also some things Emma couldn't identify, but everything smelled great. Suddenly, her stomach rumbled; she must have been hungrier than she thought, having been too busy getting ready for her date to eat much.

“What is all this?”

Killian shrugged. “Just a few things from home. I thought you might like them.”

He remembered. Remembered that she'd been to London with her dad. And more importantly, he was sharing just a bit of himself with her. “Well, it all smells great. But isn't this like a _lot_ of work?” She could hardly boil water most days and here he was feeding her sandwiches and kebabs and little wrap things.

“I've had to fend for myself for quite a while,” he explained. “So I learned.”

“Can I?” Emma pointed at one of the kebabs.

“Of course.” He held up the container for her. Emma reached in and extracted one, bringing it to her lips. He watched as she bit into it, plucking one of the pieces of meat—chicken as it turned out.

Emma's eyes fell closed as she hummed in pleasure. “Wow, that's really good,” she said, swallowing.

Killian scratched behind his ear. “I know it's not what you're used to...”

“Killian,” she said seriously, cutting him off. “This is really, really good. I promise.” She took another bite for good measure, just to wipe the apprehensive look on his face.

“It seems my mother was right then.”

“About what?”

“Nothing. It's just her recipe, is all.”

“Really?”

“Well, mostly. I may have experimented a bit. She was always doing that when we were young.”

“We?”

“Me and my brother. Liam. He was a few years older than me.”

Was. Always _was_. And he'd been fending for himself for a _while_. Was that why he didn't like personal questions? Was his family gone? Emma couldn't imagine. As much as her mother sometimes annoyed her, Emma couldn't imagine her _gone._

“Is that why you came to Hawaii?” Emma asked gently. She didn't want to pry, but she wanted to know him.

Killian went about filling her plate, but nodded. “Aye. They died...quite a few years a go now. Liam first, my mother not long after. It's just me now.”

Emma wanted to ask where his father was, but didn't dare. She was sure that was more sharing than Killian was ready for. “I'm sorry.”

“The past is the past, love,” he said simply. “Starting over in a new place...helps. Meeting new people...well, I can say that definitely has its perks.” He handed her the plate, their fingers brushed and Emma felt it again, that _connection_. In a way, she was starting over, or at least, trying to.

“Yeah, meeting new people is definitely a good thing,” she agreed. She smiled warmly at him, happy to be spending this time with him.

Killian filled his own plate, then poured them each a glass of wine. “To starting over?” he said, holding up his glass.

“To starting over.” They clinked glasses and took a sip. It wasn't as crisp as what Emma was used to, but she found herself liking the earthiness of it. It was a lot bolder than so much of the upscale _expensive_ wine she had at home. They ate slowly, talking about nothing in particular. It was refreshing to just enjoy a casual conversation, to not worry about impressing anyone. Killian had already seen her worst and still wanted to be with her.

He was telling a story about he and his friend Will hiking up the mountain when Emma burped. Loudly. She covered her mouth in horror, a flush creeping up her neck. “Oh my god,” she muttered. Her mother would be horrified. “Sorry!”

Killian cocked his head at her. “What the bloody hell are you apologizing for?”

“Because...because...it's rude?”

“Emma, it's a bodily function. Trust me, everyone does it,” To prove his point, _he_ belched too. Quite impressively actually.

Emma's nose wrinkled in mock distaste. “Oh gross!” She shoved at him playfully, trying not to smile.

Killian caught her arm, tugging her bodily into his lap. Luckily, most of the food had been set aside and tucked away or that move would have gotten _very_ messy. Emma squealed and squirmed, laughter tumbling from her lips as she tried to get out of his hold. Admittedly, it was a half hearted attempt, but Killian was stronger than she expected. His arms were locked tight around her as they fell on the ground, the blanket not doing much to cushion them.

They were still wrestling when Emma realized Killian was looming over her, breathing hard, cheeks red, eyes bright. Gradually, she stilled, eyes locked with his. “We're missing the sunset,” she said softly.

“Aye.” He stared at her for another long moment, the back of his hand coming up to skim her cheekbone. Instinctively, she leaned into his touch, skin tingling. Before she could do anything else, he moved, rolling off her and sitting up. Emma bit back a whine of disappointment, cold, cold rejection rushing down her spine.

But Killian surprised her again, urging her to sit up. Gently, he pulled her back against his chest so they were facing west. The sky was illuminated in reds and yellows and purples as the sun approached the horizon. It was gorgeous.

Emma smoothed out her skirt, letting her back settle against Killian's warmth. His arms came around her, one hand threading with hers. It was a very intimate gesture, and Emma found she didn't mind it. They were quiet, enjoying each other's company as the sun got closer and closer to the ocean.

“Do you know why I love the ocean?” Emma said, breaking the silence. The sun was nearly gone; it was mostly dark around them now.

“Why, love?”

“Because it's always changing. No wave is the same. Here...it's different here, the smell, the way the waves crash. I bet the storms are different too.”

“They are,” Killian confirmed. “In England, everything's cold and wet when it storms. Even after, the air feels heavy, thick. Most of the storms move slowly, soaking everything in their path.”

“Do you miss it?” There was a hint of nostalgia in his voice and her heart ached for him.

His hand tightened ever so slightly in hers. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But I rather like where I am now.”

Emma smiled even though he couldn't really see her face. “Yeah, I like where I am now too.” Hoping for a happier topic, she asked, “So how did you get into marine biology?”

“Well, I've always loved the ocean. We spent a lot of time on the coast when I was a child. Running around building sandcastles and such. One day—I was about five, I think—I stepped on a starfish. I thought I'd killed it, but Liam assured me that I hadn't. He showed me all the parts of it, how it ate and such. We waded out into the ocean and let it loose. I've been studying things that live in the sea ever since.”

“That's a long time.”

“Aye, but when you're passionate about something...”

“A long time doesn't seem that long,” she finished for him. She'd been hoping to follow in her father's footsteps for as long as she could remember, so she understood. Unlike, Killian though, she didn't have much to show for it.

“Precisely.” His lips brushed the top of her head. “Would you like to go home?”

“No, not yet. Tell me more.” She listened as he told her about some of the projects he'd worked on, the research. He thought she'd get bored, but she enjoyed it. She could _hear_ how much his work meant to him, getting to sail on the open ocean. As he talked, they started to put away their picnic, Emma helping load everything back into the Jeep. After they finished, he helped her climb up onto the hood of the Jeep.

“Granted, I don't get to sail as often as I would like,” Killian was saying.

“You have a boat?”

Killian's arm came around her shoulders. “Just a small one. I leave her tied up at the marina because I don't have the money to sail her all that much. I only get to use her when I'm checking my traps.”

“Traps?”

“For my thesis. I have some traps laid out off the coast, checking water temperatures, acidity, pollution. I have to check the readings every so often and collect my specimens.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It can be. But it's important research. Like I said, there are many endangered species in the area, having this place get invaded for half the year for those bloody surfing competitions may not be such a good thing.”

“I don't think the tourist industry would agree with you.”

“Well, they can just sod off. Let's see how well they enjoy their vacation when all the sea life is dead and the reefs start falling apart.”

She heard the anger in his voice; he really did love what he did. Emma reached over and took his other hand in hers, squeezing lightly. “So, sailor, can you navigate by the stars?” The sky glittered above them, brighter than in New York. There was too much light pollution in the city; even out at their Long Island home, she could only see the brightest stars. Here there were so _many_ ; it took her breath away.

His white smile shone in the darkness. “Indeed I can. Very well, princess.”

“Would you show me?”

“You have to lay back,” he replied in a hushed tone. Emma did as he bid, shivering as the cool metal of the Jeep hit her bare shoulders. Killian was right beside her, arm brushing hers. His fingers twined loosely with hers and he lifted her arm up. “You see that bright star there?”

Emma followed where he was pointing. “I think so. Is it blue?”

Killian chuckled. “Very good. Now watch my hand.” She watched as he traced a path in the sky. “That's called the Northern Cross, most helpful for navigation.”

“Like the North Star?”

“Aye. We're a bit too far south to see that one clearly, so this works just as well. Although, that constellation has another name I'm rather fond of.”

“What is it?”

“It's called Cygnus.”

Emma looked over at him curiously. “The swan? What's so great about that?”

“You know your Latin. I'm impressed, love.” He moved their hands again, tracing the outline of the constellation. “Swans are graceful, majestic. A bit like you.”

Emma snickered. “I'm fairly certain that I am _nothing_ like a swan. Every time I see you I do something decidedly _not_ graceful.” Spilling her coffee, hurling along the side of road and tripping, now burping? Emma was easily the least graceful person on the planet.

“I can think of a time where you were _very_ graceful.” His voice was low, with a gravely tone that made her heart race. Almost unconsciously, she slid closer, feeling the heat radiating off his body. “Eating ice cream.”

“I didn't get very much of it.” She turned her head to look at him, tongue darting out to wet her lips. She could feel the air crackling around them again, the way it always seemed to when they were close like this, the tension palpable.

“Well, you decided to share if I recall correctly.”

“I thought you should try it.”

He smirked. “It was the second best thing I tasted that day.”

“What was the first?”

Killian brought their joined hands down and moved so he was on his side, facing her. “You.” His free hand cradled her cheek, gently guiding her toward him. Emma made no move to stop him, her blood thrumming in anticipation of his kiss. She moaned in relief when he finally kissed her, mouth slanting over hers. His fingers were rough but his lips were soft, molding perfectly with hers. She covered his hand with hers, rolling onto her side as well, itching to touch him.

He broke the kiss with a ragged breath, forehead pressed to hers. “I've been wanting to do that all day,” he said, fingers combing through her hair.

“Funny, I've wanting that too.”

“So why didn't you?”

“Why didn't _you_?”

Killian laughed, drawing their lips together again. “I didn't want to presume. I am a gentleman, love.”

“You can kiss me whenever you want. For future reference.”

“Oh, don't give me that much of a license, Emma. Because I'd never _stop_ kissing you.”

“Not exactly complaining over here.” Then to shut him up, she surged forward and kissed _him_. Killian grunted in surprise as the force of her kiss drove him back, landing on the hood of the Jeep with a thump. Emma nipped at his lips, sucking the lower into her mouth, her core clenching when he moaned low in his throat. She got up on her knees and straddled him, her panty clad core rubbing against the denim of his shorts.

Killian's hands slid over her body, down her back, cupping her ass. “Bloody hell, I want you so much.”

Emma bit her lip, hips rolling as he squeezed her ass. “Me too.” Once again, they were in an inconvenient place. Alone. With no one around. Still, part of her wanted their first time to be in a bed. Or at least indoors. She sat up, reaching behind for his hand.

“Emma?”

“Touch me,” she said, slipping his hand under her skirt. “Then you can take me home and... _oh_.”

Killian grinned, his fingers shoving aside her panties and petting her damp core. “And what, love? This?” He rubbed her clit in slow circles, making Emma shiver. “Or this?” He glided through her folds, the tips of his fingers teasing her entrance. Emma bit back her moan, rocking her hips, trying to ride him, but he remained out of reach. “Tell me what you want, Emma.”

“I want you inside me,” she said, her voice strained and breathless. “I want you every way we know and a few we make up, just please don't stop.”

“Fucking hell.” Killian sat up, sliding her back a bit in his lap, his hand never leaving her. His movements sped up, fingers finally... _finally_ dipping inside her heat. Emma ground her hips down, trying to feel _everything._ Killian crushed his lips to hers, tongue delving into her mouth. Emma clutched at him desperately, the pressure mounting, her orgasm so, so close. His fingers curled just right and she cried out.

“Oh yes, right there. _Fuck_.”

“That's it,” he growled. “Come for me, Emma.”

Stars burst behind her eyes, a litany of curses falling from her lips as she fell apart. Killian held her firmly, not letting her fall, drawing it out with his talented fingers. Emma shivered hard, fingers still gripping his shoulders. “Oh...god,” she breathed, leaning into him as he gently pulled his hand away. He wiped his fingers on her skirt, but Emma didn't care. It would wash.

“You are so beautiful when you come,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder. He stroked her back until she was breathing normally again. “Still with me?”

Emma raised her head, nodding. “I think...you should take me home now,” she said, cradling his face with her hands. “I've got a few things I'd like to do to you.”

* * *

He was still trying to believe this was happening. Killian kept running the events of the last half hour in his head as he drove, mindful of Emma's hand resting lightly on his thigh. He knew their attraction would boil over at some point, but he hadn't expected her to be so...forward about it. He _liked_ it; a woman who knew what she wanted was a massive turn on. Still, a tiny part of him wondered how much of what happened the alley of the bar was _her_ and how much was the drink.

Now he knew. It was _all_ her and she wanted him, wanted him just as badly as he did her.

Thank god he'd come prepared this time.

He glanced at Emma, it was easy to make out her profile in the passing streetlights. There was something classic and timeless about her, the high cheekbones, the full soft lips still swollen slightly from his kisses, the green eyes that changed color in the light. Her long golden hair fell in loose waves down her back; it was slightly mussed now from his fingers.

What the hell was she doing with him?

“I think you can go now,” she said, meeting his eyes.

“Huh?”

“The light. It's green.”

“Oh. Right.” He threw the Jeep into gear and made the turn that would take them back to her bungalow. Good lord, he felt like a teenage boy getting his first glimpse of naked girl. Which was _insane_ given everything they'd already done. They were adults, what did he have to be nervous about? It was just sex for Christ's sake.

But it wasn't _just_ anything and he knew it. He really liked her. Hell, even just this evening he'd told her things no one else knew. He'd never told the starfish story to anyone, not even Will. Talking about Liam and his mother—even casually—hurt too much; Killian avoided it at all costs. But he found himself not wanting to duck her questions. She'd opened up to him, just a little. She made him smile.

He pulled into a spot next to her rented Lexus in the back of her bungalow. No one would see his Jeep from the main road. He didn't know how long he was staying, but better to be safe than sorry. Killian hopped down, intended to help her, but as at the rise, she beat him to it.

“You're getting good at that,” he said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Helps to not be wearing heels. How long have you had this thing?”

“Rebuilt her my first year on the island,” he replied, following her to the back door. “Stills runs perfectly.”

“I don't even own a car back home. No one really drives in New York.”

“I like driving, the ability to just go whenever, wherever I want.” It was an acquired taste actually; Killian refused to set foot in a car for months following the accident. Then his mother had gotten sick and he didn't have a choice. He was the only one who could look after her.

“I'm beginning to see that too,” Emma said with a grin. She opened the door, slipping inside and holding it for him. He followed her; it was the first time he'd been there since dropping off her bags. The back door opened up into the kitchen, which wasn't quite as pristine as he remembered. Now it looked like someone lived here, little touches of Emma everywhere. “I really like just driving into town, doing my own shopping.”

“Like the other day?”

Emma flushed as she shut the door. “Yeah. I still can't believe we ran into each other like that.”

“It's a small community,” he said with a shrug. “I can't believe you let me kiss you.”

Emma walked through the kitchen, beckoning him to follow. She toed off her shoes and leaned back against her couch. “I don't know if you noticed, but I really like kissing you.” The soft light of the room darkened her eyes, the green calling out to him.

“I may have noticed,” he said, slipping off his own shoes and stepping into her space. He heard her breathing hitch, just a bit. His heart thundered in his ears, just being close to her enough to make him _want_. “Perhaps you could show me again.” Killian reached up, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. Emma inhaled sharply, eyes locked with his. She pursed her lips, pressing a featherlight kiss to the pad of his thumb. She curled her fingers around his, holding his hand to her lips. She kissed each finger, the center of his palm. Killian let his other hand rest on her hip, fingers teasing the hem of her blouse. He itched to hold her, show her how much this was affecting him, but he let her explore.

Killian had to bite back a moan when she sucked his index finger into her mouth; he was already imagining her mouth wrapped around another part of his anatomy. “Emma...”

“What?”

“It's cruel to tease a man, love.”

Emma smiled mischievously. “But I'm just getting started. Let me?”

“Whatever you want, as long as I can have you.”

“That's the plan.” She pulled him in for a kiss, which did nothing to ease the ache in his groin, but did give him a taste of her. She was sweet, soft in all the right places. Her curves molded perfectly to his hands; he couldn't resist pulling her closer. Emma responded in kind, her arms winding behind his neck, fingers tugging lightly on his hair. “Bedroom,” she whispered against his lips.

Reluctantly, he let her go, letting her guide him by the hand. As soon as the door was closed, Emma pressed him against it, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. The light teasing was gone; his fiery princess was back. Her hands roamed over his chest, down to the hem of his t-shirt. “This needs to come off.”

Killian pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor; he didn't miss the way her eyes widened at the sight of him. “See something you like, love?”

“How are you real?”

Killian laughed. “Perhaps you should touch and find out.”

Emma grinned; her hands already moving. She traced the lines of his muscles, feeling the way they jumped under her touch. Her mouth wasn't idle, kissing along his collar, the hollow of his throat. Killian's head fell back against the door as she touched him, her mouth sucking on his pulse. Her nails scratched at his chest hair, which was surprisingly pleasurable.

“Bloody hell,” he breathed.

“You like that?”

Killian nodded, forcing himself to look at her. Her eyes were even darker, pupils blown wide; he was certain his were the same. He _ached_ for her. “Don't stop.”

Emma surged up on her toes, kissing him fiercely. “God, I've dreamt about this.”

Killian rocked his hips into her, letting her feel what she was doing to him. “So have I. All the time. Want you so bloody much.”

Emma kissed down his chest, tongue swirling around his nipples, hands yanking roughing on his shorts. She teased the skin around his navel and he moaned, hips bucking slightly. Emma loosened his pants, shoving them down his hips. He stepped out of them, kicking them aside, Emma on her knees, her face already buried in his crotch. She nuzzled him shamelessly, his boxer briefs the only barrier. “Emma...please.”

She kissed the bulge, then reached up to pull the cloth from his body. He sighed in relief as his cock sprang free, laying against his stomach. Boxers gone, Emma licked her lips, squirming as she eyed him. “Holy shit,” she breathed. He was too far gone to throw a quip about his size back at her, just needing her to _touch_. She obliged him, her hand skimming over him, mouth following. She licked him from base to tip and he howled.

Her eyes flitted up to his, concern there. Killian shook his head vigorously, his hand winding through her tresses, guiding her back. She smiled then returned to her task, licking and kissing along his length. It was the most exquisite torture, having her mouth on him. He tried not to squirm, to let her have her way with him, fighting the urge to throw her back on the floor and fuck her senseless.

He looked down at her, watching her as she caressed him. Emma took him in her hand, stroking, her mouth falling open. “Yes,” he hissed, her lips wrapping around him, just the way he'd imagined. Emma laved and sucked, hollowing out her cheeks as she moved. Killian's hand tightened in her hair, more for support than guidance. He leaned heavily against the door, completely floored by the woman at his feet.

“Emma, love...you have to stop.” He didn't _want_ her to stop, but if she didn't, then this would be another night wasted.

“Why?” she asked with a knowing smile.

“Because you and I both want the same thing.”

“We do?”

He fixed her with a heavy glare. “Get up here. _Now.”_

Emma giggled as she rose, the giggle turning into a squeal as he lifted her bodily from the floor. He threw her over his shoulder and crossed the small space between the door and the queen size bed. Emma let out a tiny scream when he deposited her on the bed, crawling in after her, over her. She melted into him as he kissed her deeply, his hands already working on her skirt. He dragged it down her long legs, tossing the material over his shoulder. His calloused hands trailed up her legs, fingering the scrap of black lace that covered her.

“Is it a matching set I wonder?” he asked, hand sliding under her blouse. He was surprised to find she wasn't wearing _anything_ under her blouse, her breasts fitting perfectly into the palm of his hands.

“Happy?”

Killian pushed the fabric over her head, leaving her almost completely bare. “You are bloody gorgeous, Emma.” He kissed the swell of her breast, his mouth never leaving her skin. Her stomach muscles trembled in his hands, soft moans falling from her lips. He sought out all the places that made her writhe and squirm and moan, sucking a mark into her hip.

“You like this if memory serves,” he growled before wrapping his lips around one of her puckered nipples. Emma mewled, back arching, just as it had that night under the stars. She gripped his hair tightly, pleading for more. He switched his attentions, his free hand sliding over her soaked underwear. “Bloody hell, you are _soaked_ , love.”

Emma cried out softly, rocking her hips wantonly into his touch. “Fuck, don't stop. _Please.”_

Killian rubbed her clit through the fabric, his mouth returning to her breast. In moments, she was coming, bucking under him, his name on her lips. He would never get tired of watching her writhe in ecstasy; she was utterly perfect.

Killian slid the black lace down her legs, leaving her nude. Her pale skin was flushed from her orgasm, her chest rising and falling with panting breaths. Her eyes fluttered open, tongue darting out to lick her lips. “Just where do you think you're going?”

Killian swallowed, his control holding on by a thread. “Nowhere.”

“Good.” Emma sat up and climbed into his lap, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. “Because we're not done.”

“And what does the lady wish?” he asked with a smirk.

“I told you. You, inside me.”

Killian trailed his hands up her spine. “My pants are over there, love.”

Emma sighed, then started nuzzling his neck. “Top drawer in the nightstand.”

“Came prepared, did we?”

“I'm not letting you get away again.”

Killian fumbled for the drawer while Emma licked at his collar. He finally found what he was looking for, nearly toppling the nightstand in his haste. Emma plucked the foil packet from him, deftly tearing it open. She sat back on his legs, stroking him a couple of times before sliding the condom on. She scooted forward again, but didn't let him have her just yet. She gripped him, pressing the tip of him to her clit, teasing them both.

“God, I need you,” Emma muttered, finally rolling her hips up. He held her steady as she sank down on him, slow, so fucking _slow._ He could feel her stretching to accommodate him, her walls tight and wet. “Oh my god. Oh my _god_.”

Killian wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, his jaw clenching with barely restrained _need_. “Emma, _fuck_. So good.”

Her hips rose experimentally and they both groaned. “So _full_ ,” she breathed, rocking gently in his lap. “I knew it.”

Killian kissed her brow. “Emma, love, if you don't move...I'm just going to _take_ you.”

“Oh yes, please.”

Killian growled and moved, having Emma on her back the next moment. He plunged back inside her, reveling in her cry of pleasure. She clawed at his back as he fucked her, hips snapping together roughly, more roughly than he'd intended. But he couldn't seem to help himself, her little cries and mewls fueling his lust. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her clit grinding against his pelvis.

“Oh god, I'm close, Killian,” Emma gasped, scratching at the hair at his nape. “Oh yes.”

Killian adjusted the angle of his hips, pleased when he heard Emma cry out. He drove into her relentlessly, sweat beading his brow with the effort to hold himself back. He wanted her there first, wanted to _feel_ her come around him. Emma jerked under him, nails digging into his back as she sobbed out her release, her walls rippling and clenching around him. Killian buried his head in her shoulder, his hips stuttering as he followed, grunting something that may have been her name. He could hardly see straight, the euphoria almost too much. He collapsed on top of her, his strength gone for the moment, but Emma didn't seem to mind.

She was even more exhausted than he was.

Eventually, he managed to roll off her, making quick work of the condom, tossing it in the trash. He gathered her in his arms, pillowing her head on his chest. She was still breathing hard, eyes closed. She made no other moves, just huddling close to him, as if she were afraid he would disappear.

“I'm right here, love,” he whispered. “Right here.”

They lay there quietly, Killian gently stroking her back until she fell asleep. Killian dozed himself, spent and overwhelmed by what they had done. If he'd ever entertained the idea that he could have her and get her out of his system, then he'd been an idiot. Being with Emma was so much _more_.

It was with a heavy heart that he left her in the wee hours of the morning. She was still asleep, blonde stretched out behind her. Killian dressed silently, then found a small pad of paper in the drawer of the nightstand. He scribbled a note, letting her know where he'd gone. He was folding it in half when she stirred.

“What time is it?” Her voice was slurred adorably from sleep.

“Half past four, love,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

“Are you leaving?”

“I've got an early shift at the garage,” he explained. “I'm sorry.”

She smiled sleepily. “It's okay. Will I see you later?”

He smiled; it warmed his heart that she wanted to see him again. “I hope so.” He leaned down and brushed a chaste kiss to her lips. “Sleep now, lass.”

“Don't work too hard, okay?”

“I'll try. Good night, Emma.”

“Bye, Killian.” Just before he left, he saw her grab the pillow he'd been using, swapping it for hers.

Later, he got a text from her; it was a picture of her breakfast along with the tag, _miss you_. He smiled, staring at the words. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear he was already half in love with her.

_Oh shit._


	4. Chapter 4

He started using it a couple of days after their date. _The_ date, as she dubbed it to Elsa. That night had been so overwhelming in so many ways, getting a nickname out of wasn't exactly high on her list of priorities.

So Emma didn't think anything of it the first time he used it. Swan. After the constellation he was  _fond_ of.

Emma wasn't really into nicknames. For herself at least. Whenever someone tried to call her “Em” or some other dumbass variation of her name, she shut it down. Fast. Her  _name_ was Emma. In some ways a granny name, but it was  _hers._ Killian, of course, made it sound much better than it was. When he said it, it sounded regal and elegant, surely what her mother had been thinking of when she chose it.

But lately, he'd begun calling her Swan. It actually took Emma a few moments to realize it, but she found that she didn't mind it. It reminded her of that night and it was definitely a memory she wanted to hang on to. It was their  _thing._

They were developing quite a few _things_ of late. After that first morning, there was always a text awaiting her when she woke up. Sometimes a joke, sometimes a picture, sometimes simply _good morning beautiful._ It never failed to make her smile.

Emma tried not examine things too closely, trying to just live in the moment. Not that they were getting many of those. Killian's new hours had kicked in right after their date and they hadn't had much time together. Between working and his research, Emma didn't see him as much as she hoped. But she knew it was selfish to expect him to drop everything for her. His dedication to getting his degree and his job was one of the things she _liked_ about him.

It was so different from the idiots back in New York.

However, they did manage to talk every day, even if they didn't see each other. Emma found herself watching a few ocean based nature shows on the Discovery channel to pass some of the time, not wanting to be the clingy girlfriend. Was she his girlfriend? They hadn't talked about that, hadn't talked about anything to do with labels. Emma was still afraid of ruining...whatever they were becoming. Especially when she still wasn't sure there was a _thing_ to ruin.

But today she was going to surprise him. Emma stopped by one of the local pizza places—not a chain, thank goodness—and picked up a couple of pies. She didn't know exactly what he liked—they hadn't gotten that far in the 'getting to know you' part—so she got mushroom and sausage for her and a half meat lovers, half veggie for him.

It took her over fifteen minutes to find his apartment—she got turned around twice—but she was happy to see his Jeep in the parking lot. He was working a bit on his thesis; Emma was hoping he'd appreciate the break.

Emma _did_ remember which apartment was his, trooping up the two flights of stairs. The visit was completely unannounced, so she was a little nervous. Still, she knocked briskly on the door, hearing the faint sound of...was that an orchestra? The tune sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn't place it. There was a shuffling of feet and the door opened to a thoroughly distracted Killian. Who looked unfairly attractive even so with the slightly mussed hair, slightly thicker scruff and a pencil clamped in his teeth.

“Swan?”

“Um, hi?” She smiled brightly, holding out the pizza boxes. “Hungry?”

He looked from the boxes to her face, a broad grin transforming his face. “Famished actually. Come on in.”

Emma stepped through the door, Killian taking the boxes from her. He laid them on his makeshift coffee table. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Emma shrugged, trying not to fidget with her hands. “I just thought you could use the break.”

Killian stepped back into her space, nodding. “You have excellent timing, love.” She saw his eyes flicker to her lips, then his hands came up to cup her face. Her hands curled around his strong forearms as he leaned in to kiss her, Emma sighing happily into it. Killian definitely loved taking advantage of her permission to kiss her whenever he wanted. Honestly, she loved it too, such open affection new to her.

“Happy to see me then?” she asked, their faces only a few inches apart.

“Emma, I am always happy to see you.” His thumbs caressed her cheekbones and Emma chewed a bit on her lip. It was so _easy_ to be near him like this now, no longer the wonder of what if. She knew how they were together and it was really, really good.

She leaned back in for another kiss, unable to resist the temptation of his lips. His kisses warmed her all the way to her toes, the gentle give and take, tongues sliding and stroking. Her arms wound around his waist, happy to feel the solidness of him against her again. It surprised her how much she had _missed_ it.

“Did you miss me, Swan?” he asked, toying with some of her hair.

“Maybe. Or maybe I was just hungry.”

He took her teasing in stride, kissing the tip of her nose. “Well, it appears you've brought us a feast. It certainly smells delicious.”

“I got them from that place over on Second. It had good reviews on Yelp.”

Killian laughed, releasing her and moving toward his kitchen. “You actually _looked_ at the reviews?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “And what's wrong with that? People do it all the time!”

“In the city, perhaps. Around here most of us hope for the best.” He brought them some paper plates—left over from their picnic, she noticed—and some napkins. “As it happens, I love that place.” He punctuated his teasing with a gentle squeeze of her hand. “I've only got water and beer I'm afraid. Been too busy to do the shopping.”

“Beer's fine.” Emma sat on his couch, arranging the pizzas on what passed for a coffee table. “Wait, if you've been to busy to get groceries, what have you been eating?”

“Worried about me, love?” Killian asked, returning with two bottles of beer. Emma accepted hers with a huff.

“I was just curious. Didn't you have stuff from that picnic leftover?”

“For a few days. Mostly to serve as lunch at work.”

“Oh.” Packed lunches for work was another thing she was unfamiliar with. _You have to get out more, Emma. Sheesh._ “I wish you'd have said something.”

“I don't need you to look after me, Emma.”

“I know. I just...nevermind.” She wasn't even sure how that sentence was going to end; she just knew she didn't like the idea of him being alone.

Killian gently cupped her chin. “Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I'm _very_ happy to see you, Emma. But I'd have been happy with just you. The dinner is just a bonus.”

There were moments—like this one—where she was convinced he was too good to be true. Almost no one was every happy with _just_ her. They almost always wanted something from her. But not Killian. The way his eyes lit up when he saw her...that couldn't be faked. She knew what fake happiness looked like. Fake interest. Killian's regard for her was real and genuine and scared the bejeezus out of her.

“I may have missed you,” she admitted. “Just a little.”

The corner of his mouth came up in that half smile she secretly loved. “I missed you too.” He dragged his thumb over her bottom lip again, then nodded at their food. “We should eat before it gets cold.”

“Good idea.”

They dug in; Killian, as it turned out, much preferred the meat lovers over the veggie. They chatted about some of the things Emma had been doing to pass the time—she left out the nature shows, it was too embarrassing—Killian complaining about the weather mucking with his research.

“I've had to go out there twice in the last week to make sure the traps haven't become unmoored, bloody annoying. And expensive.”

His finances were none of her business, but she couldn't help but notice the nervous tic in his jaw. “Why?”

Killian took a long pull on his beer. “Well, it's costs a pretty penny to rent my spot at the marina. And there's a gas for the engine. Maintenance to keep her running. I do most of it myself, of course, but the parts aren't cheap. If I lose any of those traps, it could push everything back and I'm _really_ tired of school.”

“Don't you like it?”

Killian gave her a sardonic grin. “I love what I do. I love going out there and doing the work. It's the _school_ part, the writing and such, that I can do without. But I need this thesis to graduate and do what I really want to do.”

“What's that?”

“Work with endangered species, rehabilitate habitats, that sort of thing.”

“Like those...oh, what were they? Humpback whales?”

Killian cocked his head at her, a brow raised. “Been watching some Discovery Channel, love?”

Emma flushed, outed. “It was on. I was bored.”

“So you watched a special about _humpback whales?_ Seems unlikely for a lass from New York,” he teased. “It's the wrong time of year for them, I'm afraid. But that is the general idea, yeah. There are several preserves around the islands. My adviser thinks he can get me an interview or three.”

“So you'd stay here?”

“Well, perhaps not Oahu. I'm not sure, really. Wherever they needed me, I suppose.”

“Oh.” She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Of course, they weren't even officially a... _thing_ yet, so she ignored the sudden rock in the pit of her stomach. “It's good that you have a plan though.”

Killian chuckled. “Dunno how good of a plan it is, Swan. It doesn't go much beyond graduate and get an interview.”

“At least you can _get_ an interview. And no one has any preconceived notions about you.”

“The world is populated by imbeciles, love. You just have to keep trying.”

“I can't even get my _dad_ to take me seriously.” She hated this, whining to him about her problems. She didn't have to worry about an empty fridge while working her ass off at what amounted to two jobs. She could just go about her life, flashing her credit card wherever she went. She didn't even know how much money was in her trust fund.

Sad and pathetic, that's what she was.

Killian put down his nearly empty bottle and twined his fingers with hers. “Anyone who doesn't give you a chance is an idiot.”

“You barely know me.”

Killian brushed some hair back from her face. “I'd thought we'd established that I know you quite well, love. Just...start small. _Make_ them take you seriously. Perhaps you'll surprise them. And yourself.”

“Sounds easy when you say it like that.”

“Oh, it's not. The good things are never easy. But it's always worth it.”

“How do you know that?”

“You're here, aren't you?”

“This is a good thing?”

“Emma, you're the best thing that's happened to me in a very long time.” There was a brief flash of pain and grief in his eyes, then it was gone. Again, she wanted to ask, but she hoped he'd tell her when he was ready.

“Me too.” She smiled and kissed him, just because she could. Killian gently pushed her back against the couch, deepening the kiss. He tasted of a mixture of pizza and beer, which was fine, because so did she. Her hands slid up under his shirt, kneading and stroking his back. Killian growled low in his throat, his hips slipping easily between her legs. She could feel him already, the thick ridge hardening as he ground ever so slightly against her.

“Bloody hell, I've missed you, lass,” he murmured into her neck, peppering the skin with kisses. Emma bit her lip, the hard knot of desire pooling in her belly. How did he get to her so fast?

His hand was up her shirt, pulling the cup down so he could pluck at her nipple, mouth hot on her stomach...when the door opened.

There were shouts (“Bloody hell!” “Don't you _knock_ anymore, mate!” “Oh my _god!”_ ) and a mad scramble with clothes before Emma found out who their visitor was. Emma had her arms crossed tightly across her chest, cheeks flaming red as Killian introduced his friend Will, who he promptly cuffed around the head.

“Ouch! What the bloody hell was _that_ for?”

“For not knocking, you dolt! What's the _matter_ with you, Scarlet?”

Emma didn't say anything, just tried to look at anything that _wasn't_ Will. She was beyond embarrassed, worse than throwing up or burping. She'd been perilously close to being half naked, on the way to _fully_ naked with her almost boyfriend! And there was still a tendril of desire coiling through her, Killian's obvious anger at being interrupted doing very bad (very _good_ ) things to her.

“Well, I _thought_ I'd get ya out of this bleeding dungeon you call an apartment, but it seems ya had other plans,” Will explained, still nursing the sore spot on his head.

“Ever heard of a phone?” Killian grumbled.

“I've never had ta call ya before!”

“I didn't have a _girlfriend_ before, you bleeding arse!”

Emma's head snapped around, but Killian made no further amendment to his statement. It just seemed to be a fact for him. She was his girlfriend and that was that. Emma wasn't about to _complain—_ that would be dumb—but she had to admit to a little thrill at hearing the words out loud.

“Ya tell her that?” Will shot back, noticing Emma for the first time. He didn't look impressed. In fact, he kinda sneered at her.

“What?”

“I mean, _mate_ , that your _girlfriend_ seems surprised.”

Killian looked at Emma, realization coloring his handsome features. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting to use that word either. “Swan?”

“Yeah, I'm here. Really.” She took his outstretched hand, stepping into his side. She held out her other hand to Will to shake. “Hi. I'm Emma.”

Will gave her hand a perfunctory shake, then dropped it. “So yer the lass this one hasn't been able ta shut up about.”

Emma decided to let that pass. Although the idea that Killian had been talking her up to his friends was a good sign. “It's nice to meet you. Killian's mentioned you a few times.”

“Nothing good I hope.”

“All very disreputable,” she assured him with a mischievous grin, hoping that would disarm him a bit. He seemed unusually hostile and she hadn't done anything.

Will finally cracked a bit of smile. “Aye, he's a good lad. If a bit bookish.” Will rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm, ah, sorry for, ah, _interrupin'._ Guess I'll be on me way.”

Emma glanced at Killian. She didn't want to be the reason he got estranged from his friends. And with his limited time lately, Will probably hadn't seen much of Killian either. “Or, you could stay. We could, I don't know, watch a movie or something? Killian?”

But Will replied before Killian could. “Nah, I'll just go. There's a pint with me name on it at Granny's. Night, Killian.”

“Night, Will.” Killian shut the door behind his friend, turning back to Emma. “Sorry about that, love.”

“Which part, Will interrupting us or announcing I'm your girlfriend?”

His brows arched one at a time, as he sighed apologetically. “Both? That just slipped out.”

“I could tell.”

“I can take...”

Emma put a finger to his lips. “Don't. I like...this, _us_. I like being an _us_ , okay?”

Killian kissed her finger. “Aye.” The mood was pretty much killed, but they didn't mean they couldn't spend some more time together.

Emma reached for his other hand. “Come on, let's watch that movie. Then I'll let you get back to work.”

Killian grinned. “How do you feel about _Hook_?”

They wound up watching _Hook_ and _Peter Pan_ before she left. They had been Killian's favorite's as a child—it _so_ explained the skull and crossbones on his Jeep—and he even lent her his battered copy of the book to read. It sat on the passenger seat as she drove back to her bungalow, hoping to curl up with it on the back patio.

Her phone vibrated and Emma grumbled, knowing she couldn't get to it, as it was in her pocket. She shouldn't even answer it when she was driving anyway. Either way, it distracted her just enough that she missed the broken glass in the road. There was a lot of _crunching_ and a very loud _bang._ Emma slammed on the breaks, thankful she was the only one on the road to her place. The car bumped along as she slowed; at least one of the tires was blown.

“Shit,” Emma cursed. She got the Lexus off to the side and shut off the engine. Looking around, she opened the door slowly, intending to inspect the damage. She groaned as she saw both front tires were punctured. She popped the trunk and sure enough, there was only one full size spare, not that she knew how to change it. Her first instinct was to call Killian, but she couldn't drag him all the way out here for _this_. He had work to do. Plus Emma was a big girl. She could handle it.

By calling resort maintenance—it _was_ their car after all—and having them fix it.

She leaned against the hood and dialed, the switchboard sending her call to the garage.

“Garage,” the male voice said crisply. Only it was GAR-age, like Killian always said. So this guy was a Brit too, it seemed.

“Hi. This is Emma Nolan, bungalow 205. I seem to have run over some glass while driving home and both front tires are blown.”

“Is there anything else damaged?”

“I don't think so. Just the tires.”

“Okay. We're a bit short handed this evening, but I will be there as soon as possible, Miss Nolan. I'm Robin, by the way.”

“Thanks, Robin.” She gave him her location as precisely as she could and settled in to wait. She checked her missed calls to see who'd been calling her, resisting the urge to text Killian. There were _two_ missed calls from Elsa and no message. Strange.

Emma dialed again, cringing when she realized what time it must be in New York. “Emma! There you are!”

“Sorry, I was driving. What's up?”

“I was wondering how you were,” Elsa lied. Emma could tell she was lying by the slightly higher pitch in her voice. Her friend was the worst liar ever. “You haven't checked in lately.”

“Are you my warden now?”

“Well, _no_. But I am your friend. I was curious how things were going with your...you know, new friend?”

“Elsa, you can use his name. And I think he and I are past the friend stage.” If they'd ever really been _friends_ to begin with, Emma chuckled to herself.

“Something's happened,” Elsa accused. “Oh spill! Please?”

Emma glanced around to see if Robin was there yet, but no dice. She knew Elsa had a _reason_ for calling; Emma decided it could wait. It didn't seem to be life and death, whatever it was. “Well, um,” she hedged. “He did kind of call me his girlfriend tonight.”

“He _did?!_ ” Elsa squealed. It was so loud Emma had to pull the phone away from her ear. “That's wonderful!”

Emma couldn't stop the smile that curved her lips. “Yeah, I think it is.” She was surprisingly calm about it, once she got over the initial shock. “He didn't exactly do it on purpose though.” She recounted the tale of Will walking in on them and the ensuing embarrassment.

“Well, he sounds absolutely _vile_ ,” Elsa retorted. “Will, not Killian. You said he was rude?”

Emma frowned. “I don't know if rude is the right word. He was definitely standoffish though. I wonder why?”

“Does it matter? It seems pretty clear to me that he was just jealous of you taking his friend away.”

“But I'm not! Killian's been really busy lately, working, his research. Surely Will knows that too,” she added thoughtfully. No, she definitely got the vibe that there was something else going on there. “I just missed him and wanted to see him.”

“Emma, you did _nothing_ wrong. That guy is just a barbarian. Who doesn't knock?”

“Have you ever walked in on Anna and Kristoff?”

“ _No_ , thank god.” The sound got muffled as Elsa coughed. “I mean, I like him, but there are things I don't need to know.”

“But you'll pump me for information about Killian?”

“It's _so_ romantic, Emma!” Elsa scolded. “You know it is!”

“Elsa, I spilled coffee on him,” Emma deadpanned. But she was smiling, a big goofy grin. She was _happy_ , spending time with him made her happy. It had been so long since she felt truly happy, she nearly forgot what it felt like.

“All the great ones start that way. Look at Lizzy and Darcy.” Oh Elsa and her literary romances. “Or Margaret and Thornton.” Yes, Austen and Gaskell were her favorites. They spent way too much time watching the Colin Firth version of _Pride and Prejudice_. Emma wasn't as fond of them—especially after things with Neal—but she indulged her friend.

“Somehow I doubt we're worthy of our own book,” she replied. “We've still only been out a few times.”

Elsa harrumphed over the line. “You're not fooling me, Emma. I can hear it on your voice. This is different.”

“If you say so.” Emma wasn't about to make any great leaps. _Live in the moment_.

A tow truck pulled up behind her Lexus. Robin arrived, finally. “Elsa, can you hang on a second? The tow truck's here.”

“What?” Elsa sounded a bit panicked.

“It's nothing. Blown tire. I'll explain in a sec.” She lowered the phone and went to greet the tall older man who climbed down from the truck. “Hi. Sorry about this.”

Robin smiled at her genially. “It's no trouble, Miss. It's what we're here for. I put in a call to the grounds crew to clear up that glass. Nasty stuff.”

“I don't know how I missed it. But I knew as soon as I hit it that something was wrong.”

“Just the two tires?”

“Yeah.”

“Should be finished in about fifteen minutes.” He nodded at her and went to get his tools. Emma stood around a bit aimlessly, but soon moved down the road a bit so she could hear Elsa. Robin's small air jack was _loud._

“Elsa, you still there?”

“Yes, listening so that you don't get murdered.”

Emma rolled her eyes. So dramatic. Killian would like her. “I haven't had any trouble since I got here. The resort is very safe.” Besides, Elsa knew damn well Emma could take care of herself.

Elsa sighed. “I know, Emma. I just worry about you, so far away.”

“I'm fine.”

“Well, you might not be after I tell you something.”

Emma pinched her nose, groaning. “I knew it. What's wrong?”

“I didn't want to tell you, but I've heard some things and I know how much you hate surprises.”

“What is it, Elsa?” Emma snapped. Blown tires aside, she'd been having a good day. But she could tell by Elsa's tone that she wasn't going to like whatever this was.

“Neal asked about you.”

Emma's brow furrowed, eyes narrowing. “He _what?_ Why?” They'd broken up two years ago; they hadn't exchanged more than forced passing polite pleasantries since. Emma wanted nothing to do with him.

“I don't know,” Elsa said worriedly. “He ran into Anna at one of Kristoff's hockey games.”

“That still doesn't explain why he'd want to know about me.”

“You know how he is, Emma.” Yeah, a controlling jerk, that's who. Starting off all sweet and solicitous until he's ordering your food for you and expecting you to be at his beck and call. Emma couldn't figure out what she ever saw in him. Their break up had been nasty; he wouldn't take “no” for an answer. It was months and the threat of a restraining order that finally got him to leave her alone. It was only after that Emma found out he'd been cheating on her with some woman named Tamara.

“It was two years ago though. Isn't he dating that model? Mulan?” It was impossible to _not_ know since their pictures were splashed all over the tabloids. Neal's father was the uber rich Robert Gold after all.

“Last I heard he was. You know I would never speak to him.” Elsa had been the first to call out some of Neal's questionable behavior, but Emma had been too blinded by her love for him to notice. They'd all grown up together, more or less, running around with the same circle of friends. He'd seemed like a nice guy. He claimed to have had a crush on Emma for years, so she figured why not? It started out well, but the warning signs had been there from the beginning.

“That's because you're a good friend, Elsa. Thanks.” She paused. “He doesn't know I'm here, right?”

“I asked Anna that specifically and it seems not. The papers haven't really noticed either, although I think that's because the Mayor's daughter is getting married.”

“Oh lord.”

“Yeah, it's been a nightmare. Be glad you're there and not here.”

“Oh I am. Listen, I don't want to think anymore that that asshole. Just let me know if anything changes, okay?”

“Okay. I should get going; it's late here.”

Emma glanced at her car; it seemed Robin was finishing up as well. “Yeah, I think my tires are just about fixed too. Good night, Elsa.”

“Bye.” They hung up and Emma strode back to her car. Robin was wiping his hands on a dirty cloth.

“All finished, Miss. They should be good as new now.”

“Thank you so much. I never learned how to change a tire.”

“Not many people do nowadays what with AAA and whatnot.” He dung in his truck for a clipboard. “If you'll just sign this, I can get you on your way.”

Emma scribbled her name, then dug in her small bag. She pulled out two twenties and handed them to Robin, along with the clipboard. “Thanks again.”

Robin shook his head. “I couldn't, Miss Nolan.”

“One for each tire,” she insisted. “I'd still be stuck here otherwise. It's the least I can do.”

Robin nodded. “Very well.” He accepted the clipboard and cash. “You have a good rest of your evening.”

“You too.”

Emma made it home with no further incidents. She texted Killian a picture of her holding his book with a drink in her hand, which he got quite the kick out of. It was just what she needed to put Neal out of her mind.

* * *

“Killian, can you come in here?”

Killian's brow furrowed in curiosity as Robin's voice crackled over the intercom. It wasn't like him. Killian wiped his hands on the rag and shoved it on his pocket. He was gonna need some extra degreaser to get the rest off after spending the better part of the morning flushing radiators and changing spark plugs.

“What is it, Robin?” Killian asked, stopping short when he saw that this friend wasn't alone. The man was tall—taller than him—with keen blue eyes, dark brown hair and a five o'clock shadow.

“Killian, I'd like you to meet August Booth, our new mechanic,” Robin said, pulling Killian's attention away.

“Oh.” Silently, Killian let out a sigh of relief; the latent fear that his clandestine relationship with Emma would be found out almost getting the better of him. He just needed to get through the summer. If they lasted beyond that, of course. Abruptly, Killian held out his hand. “Killian Jones. It'll be good to have some help around here, August.”

August had a firm handshake. “Thanks. Looks like I got here just in time, huh?”

Killian chuckled. “What gave it away? The line around the block?” Regina insisted all the vehicles be inspected at the beginning of the busy summer season; with Smee gone, it was taking them longer than usual, even with all the extra hours Killian was putting in.

“Speaking of which, Killian, I'm giving you the rest of the weekend off. August and I can handle this.”

“Robin, I can stay. It's no trouble.” Frankly, he'd been hoping to spend some time with Emma, but he couldn't in good conscience leave Robin in the lurch.

“August, will you excuse us?”

“Sure.”

As soon as they were alone, Killian opened his mouth to argue again, but Robin cut him off. “You've been here every day for nearly two weeks. I'm really grateful, but you've got more important things to do. Am I right?”

Killian frowned. “More important?”

Robin grinned. “Well, I can't imagine that new girlfriend of yours is overly happy about you having _no_ free time.”

“Robin....”

Robin zipped up his overalls. “Look, Killian. I know you think I'm sticking my nose where it doesn't belong, but you've been _happier_ since you met this girl...whoever she is. Which is something we're going to have to fix, sooner or later, by the way. What's the damn mystery for anyway?”

Killian tried not to fidget, not really wanting to hear a lecture—or worse, get _fired—_ at the moment. “I don't want to scare her off,” he half lied, looking past Robin and focusing on a spot behind his friend's head. “The boss parading around as a concerned older brother thing isn't the most attractive, you know.”

Robin sighed in defeat. “Fine, have your secret then, you stubborn arse. But I'm serious about getting out of here. Go. Have some fun. That's an order.”

Killian ignored the dull ache in his chest; there's no way Robin could know how much those last words hurt. “If you insist. See you on Monday.” He waved farewell and headed for the washroom to clean up. He was scrubbing his hands for the third time when his phone started vibrating. “Oh bloody hell.” He rinsed quickly and dried his hands, but it stopped before he could answer it. It was a call from Emma.

Killian ducked into the break room and rang her back. She picked up on the first ring. “There you are,” she said, a little breathless.

“Sorry, I was washing up.”

“Work?” she guessed.

“Aye. But I've been released for the rest of the weekend.”

“You have? That's great!” She sounded so happy, it eased the lingering ache in his heart. She just made his world better by being in it.

“Did you have plans, love?”

“Nothing official. I was _hoping_ to see a certain someone though.”

“Is he devilishly handsome?”

“Oh, he _thinks_ he is. Believes he's God's gift, really.” If he didn't know for a fact that she loved him a little arrogant and smug, he'd think she was insulting him.

“Perhaps you should give him the chance to prove it.”

“Maybe I will.” There was the rustling of a paper bag and he wondered what she'd been up to. “So since you're free,” she said, a bit haltingly, “would you like to go out with me?”

Killian frowned. “Out? What I was thinking of involves staying in, lass.”

“All in good time,” Emma replied, sounding mysterious. “I believe it's my turn to plan a date.”

“And what was the other night?” He'd been thrilled to see her, despite the interruption.

“That wasn't a date. Dates involve going _out_.”

Killian laughed. She sometimes had the oddest notions. “As you wish.”

“Great. I'll pick you up in an hour? Oh and be ready for the beach.”

“I'm intrigued, Swan. I'll see you then.” They hung up and Killian headed out to his Jeep, waving goodbye to Robin and August. It was nearly noon; he had to negotiate the lunch traffic back to his place. Once there, he scrubbed the rest of the grease off his hands and forearms and changed into his trunks and a white t-shirt. He stuffed his somewhat threadbare UH beach towel into his duffle and a bottle of sunscreen. The date wouldn't have a very good end if he got burnt. He was hunting for one of his textbooks when he heard Emma honk. Cursing, he looked through another stack until he found what he was looking for; he shoved it into the bag as well, then dashed off.

“Hey, would you mind taking those bags up to your place?” Emma asked, as he opened the passenger's door. “I don't want it to spoil.”

He raised a curious brow, but nodded. “Of course, Swan. I'll be right back.” He grabbed the three grocery bags and took them up to his apartment. His fridge was still nearly empty, so they fit easily. “What's the occasion?” he asked, when he got back.

“It's a surprise,” she replied with a cryptic grin.

Before she could get in another word, Killian leaned across the gear shift and kissed her, the now familiar feel of her lips still making his heart rate spike. “I happen to love surprises,” he chuckled, stealing another kiss.

“Well, hopefully, you still will after.” Her hand reached over for his, threading their fingers together. It was another one of those loving, intimate gestures that just happened. Killian didn't even know if she knew she was doing it. But every time, he fell just a tiny bit harder for her.

“I'm sure I will, lass.”

Emma smiled at him, then turned back to the steering wheel. The sound of the GPS startled him as she backed out into the street. “Just where are we going that we need _that_ bloody thing?”

Emma blushed. “I thought we'd spend the afternoon at Sunset Beach. I've never been there, hence the GPS.”

Killian switched it off. “Well, fortunately, _I_ have. And I can get us there a lot better than some ruddy computerized voice.” Emma's laugh filled the car, clearly amused by his indigence. He guided her through the streets and out to the highway, secretly glad that her plans involved them going somewhere that wasn't Crocodile Bay. He was in favor of staying as far away from the resort as possible.

The beach was busier than he hoped, but it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd seen it in the height of summer. They had a couple more weeks until the deluge arrived, usually after the Memorial Day holiday.

“Want to find us a spot, while I get us an umbrella?”

“Those things are heavy, Swan.”

Emma slung her own bag over her shoulder. “Hey, I'm tougher than I look. Go on.”

He was still a bit skeptical. It wasn't that he doubted her—far from it—but...his gentlemanly instincts didn't like her doing things like that by herself. Still, he respected her decision and squeezed her hand briefly before heading down the beach to find them a spot. She followed him a few minutes later, blue umbrella over her shoulder.

“See? Easy.” She stumbled a bit in the sand; Killian caught her before she fell.

“What were you saying, love?” he teased.

“Shut up.” She dropped the umbrella and righted herself. “God, I am _such_ a klutz!”

“Everyone slips in the sand,” Killian soothed, picking up the umbrella and setting it up. It took some doing; the sand was softer than he expected and he had to wedge it to get it to stand up. Once open, the umbrella gave them a nice patch out of the sun. “This what you had in mind?”

Emma slipped off her sandals and nodded. “Yeah. That's perfect.” She smiled at him, her earlier frustration forgotten. He loved seeing her smile like that, like she didn't have a care in the world. It lit up her whole face.

They spread out their towels and Killian peeled off his shirt. He was already hot; he was thinking about taking a dip in the ocean until he saw what Emma was wearing under her clothes. Her colorful wrap came undone, exposing her gorgeous legs. The bikini bottoms were bright red, with ties on either side of her hips. The smallest tug could expose a lot more than Killian wanted anyone else to see.

The top was just as scandalous, her black off the shoulder shirt dropping to the sand, leaving only the matching red bikini top. It tied around her back and up behind her neck, neat bows Killian itched to pull. It was so tiny she was almost spilling out of it, and Killian's mouth watered.

Emma swept her long hair up into a loose bun and plopped down on her towel. “Killian?”

“Yeah?” he said distractedly.

“Mind lathering me up?” she asked, a smirk playing on her lips. Oh yes, she knew _exactly_ what she was doing to him. His blood ran in a distinctly southerly direction; he hoped his trunks hid it well. He was simply drawn to her, and god, it had been far too long since he'd had her.

“Of course, love,” he said, dropping to his knees next to her. “As long as you don't mind returning the favor?”

Her smirk got bigger. “I think I can handle that.” Her sunglasses made it impossible to see if her eyes were lingering on him the way his were her, but he already knew that she found him...impressive. She handed him the bottle and lay back, propped up on her elbows.

Killian started slow, rubbing lotion into her skin, her feet, calves, shins, thighs. His hands lingered longer than was strictly necessary, noting the way her breathing would get shallow whenever he touched a sensitive place. He made mental notes of all of them; this was really the first time he got to truly explore her body and having it in the open like this added a certain thrill.

Her stomach muscles trembled as he applied lotion there as well; Killian left a lingering kiss to her navel before rubbing lotion there too, his fingers slipping just below the waist of her bottoms. Emma bit her lip, swallowing thickly. Killian urged her to sit up, turning her back to him. He started rubbing lotion over her chest, fingers skimming the swell of her breasts. A soft whimper tumbled from her lips; Killian had to bite back his own groan.

“I love touching you,” he whispered, kissing her neck. “You're always so soft.”

“Killian...”

He rubbed more lotion into her arms and shoulders, the toned muscles relaxing under his touch. “Are you wet for me, love? Right now? I think you are.”

Emma licked her lips again, leaning back. “What if I was?”

“Then I'd call you a dirty wanton thing,” he murmured, placing another kiss to the nape of her neck.

“I...can't...help it,” she said, turning her head up. She pulled him down by the neck and kissed him breathless. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

“I know exactly what you mean, lass.” He kissed her again, briefly, then finished applying lotion to her back. Why did they always let themselves get riled up in public? Every instinct was telling him to drag her into his lap and let her ride him until they were blind from the pleasure. “As soon as we get home, love.”

“Okay.” Emma took the bottle back and returned the favor, her small hands kneading his muscles as she worked. It didn't help the she kept leaning obscenely over him, as if her lithe body was taunting him. By the time she was done, he was painfully hard and using all his willpower to _not_ fuck her right there on the beach.

“I'm going to go for a swim,” he announced. He didn't miss Emma's grin, the minx. At some point, he was going to make her pay. He applied some sunscreen to his face, then chucked his sunglasses onto his towel. “Coming?” He strode purposely toward the water, waiting for her to follow.

His feet were imprinting on the wet sand by the time she caught up. Her hair was loose down her back again, just the way he liked it. The water was warm as it splashed around their ankles. Emma took off ahead of him, diving into the water with a splash. Killian muttered a curse and chased after her, gasping when the water came into contact with his heated flesh. When he surfaced, Emma was still about twenty feet away from him, treading water through the oncoming swells.

Killian ducked under the water again, swimming in her direction and catching her around the legs, dunking her. She struggled and splashed until they came up for air. “Hey!” she cried out indignantly. Her hair was streaming with water, her cheeks were flushed, green eyes flashing like the ocean.

“I thought you could handle it, Swan,” he taunted, hand pressing into the small of her back.

“I'd watch yourself there, buddy,” she shot back, finger poking his chest. “Especially if you want to play later.”

His hand slid down over her ass, giving it a little squeeze under the water. “We both know that's an empty threat, love.” She had as little willpower as he did; they just couldn't keep their hands to themselves.

Her eyes roved over him. “Damn you,” she cursed. Her hands slid over his wet skin until she was drawing him in for a slightly salty kiss. “I've missed you.”

“I know.” His hands trailed up along the curve of her spine, mindful that they weren't alone. “Let's enjoy the afternoon, yeah? I don't have to be back at work until Monday.”

“Really?”

“Really. And when we get back I don't intend for us to leave the bed until then.” He grinned when Emma shivered, despite the warm water. He intended to explore every inch of her and let her do the same to him. They had some lost time to make up for.

They were packing up when Emma saw it. “Oh look! A swing!”

Killian looked in the direction she was pointing. There was a rope swing hanging from one of the larger palm trees. The sun was setting, but they had some time. “Would you like to...” He gestured toward the swing.

“Oh yes!” She sounded giddy, like a child, and it was infectious. Killian shouldered their bags, leaving the umbrella there. They could get it on their way back. Emma took off for the swing, her damp hair streaming behind her. Once again, Killian wondered what her life was like in New York, how such simple things could make her smile. It was just like that day at the arcade, almost like she was coming out of a cocoon.

“Emma, slow down!” Killian called, but she ignored him. By the time he caught up she was already on the swing, her wrap fluttering around her legs.

“Push me!” she ordered, fingers curling around the rope.

“Not until I've checked those knots,” he admonished. He didn't want her getting hurt on some ancient swing. He dropped their bags in the sand and bent down to examine the seat; it was a piece of driftwood, thick and sturdy. There were holes drilled in it for the rope. Killian checked the knots carefully, eyes traveling the length of the rope, checking for fraying or loose coils. Satisfied, he grinned. “Ready, Swan?”

“Nice and high, Killian. Show me what you've got.”

He pulled the swing back until her toes were barely touching the ground then pushed off. On the return arc, he pushed, over and over again, listening to Emma's merry laughter. She swung her legs once she was too high for him to reach, getting just that little bit higher. Killian dug in his bag for his phone, unable to resist snapping a few pictures of her. She was beautiful, all smiles and sparkling eyes with the sun setting behind her.

“Are any of them good?” Emma asked, slowing down.

Killian's cheeks tinged pink, caught. “I'd like to think so.” He'd done some photography in school, but those were sea creatures.

“May I see?”

Killian walked over, holding out his phone. He watched with baited breath as she examined the photos, her cheeks turning a pleasing shade of pink in turn. “I think there's one missing,” she said finally.

“How do you figure?”

“Come here,” she replied, getting him to stand behind her. She flipped the camera and held it up so that both of them were in the shot. Killian wrapped his arms around her and looked into the camera, a huge grin on his face. Emma snapped a handful of photos, her own smile wide and happy. “Much better.”

Killian pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, reaching up to take his phone back. As soon as her hand was free, Emma curled it behind his neck, forcing his lips back to hers. The angle was awkward but neither cared, wanting to indulge in the small spot of privacy the swing provided.

“Let's go home,” Emma said quietly, fingers sliding over his skin.

They drove back to his apartment in amiable silence, Killian giving her the occasional direction. He was alternately excited and wary. He knew every moment he spent with her brought him more and more into her orbit, her hold on him almost magnetic in its intensity. He absolutely should walk away from this, let her get back to her life, but he couldn't. Nor did he _want_ to. She was the first woman he'd felt more than a passing fancy for since Liam died.

Surely, his brother wouldn't want him to be alone?

“Hey, you in there?” Emma asked, touching his thigh.

“Aye, sorry. Got a little lost in thought.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Killian covered her hand with his. “Soon, love. But not today.”

Emma gave him an understanding smile, then turned back to the road. They arrived about ten minutes later, Killian carrying their bags upstairs. Emma dug a basket out of her trunk; Killian gave her a curious look, but she just shook her head.

Emma dropped off the basket in the kitchen. “Hey, can I use your shower? I want to get all this sand off.”

Was she trying to _kill_ him? The idea of her naked in his shower had kept him up for many a night. He dropped their bags at the foot of his bed, nodding. “Of course. It's just through there.” He pointed, watching her as she sauntered over, untying her wrap and letting it drop to the floor.

To his credit, he lasted until he heard the water running. The old pipes rattled to life and Killian counted to twenty five. He grabbed a condom out of his dresser, knowing exactly what would happen once he stepped into the room. His shirt came off before he stepped through the bathroom door, his trunks joined her bikini on the tile. Emma was standing behind the glass door, water pouring over her, steam filling the room. Killian pushed back on the door, stepping inside quietly. He put the foil packet on the ledge for later.

“Took you long enough,” Emma muttered, still facing away from him. Her fingers carded through her wet hair as Killian's hands came around her waist.

“Expecting me to join you, love?”

“I needed you to join me,” she countered, head leaning back against his chest. “I was about to go crazy here.”

“Well, we can't have that now,” he said, kissing the shell of her ear. “What do you want?”

She covered his hands with hers. “Just touch me.” The water sluiced over them, beading here and there from the lingering sunscreen. Killian reached over for his soap, squeezing a generous amount directly on her skin. Emma stood still as he worked, the lather spreading over her, her stomach, her ribcage, her hips. She let out a little whine when he moved to her back, deliberately avoiding where she wanted him. Except her ass. Killian couldn't help giving the globes a firm squeeze; he was rather fond of that part of her. Finally, he cupped a heavy breast in each hand, fondling, tweaking, plucking, Emma's needy moans echoing in the small space.

“Do you like my hands on you, love?” He kissed her neck, the spot just below her ear that made her whimper. “Do you dream about me touching you?”

“Oh god, yes,” Emma moaned, her hands coming to rest on his hips, her ass cradling his aching cock. “More.”

Killian buried his head in her neck, biting down gently where it met her shoulder. His right hand slid down her body, ducking into the spray to remove the suds. Then he found her cleft, sinfully bare and slick, his fingers deftly rubbing her clit.

“ _Oh.”_ Emma's hips rocked into his hand, craving more of his touch. Killian obliged her, fingers sliding through her folds, loving how eager she was for him. Her rolling hips put much needed friction on his cock and he groaned.

“Fuck, Emma.”

Emma bit her lip, one of her hands leaving his hip and reaching further behind her to stroke him. Killian hissed in pleasure, her soapy hand heaven on throbbing erection. He thrust two fingers inside her, determined to make her come before he took her. He didn't want to hurt her, remembering how snug she was around him.

“Ride my fingers, Swan,” he muttered, tweaking her nipple with his other hand. “Then I'll fill you up.”

“ _Fuck.”_ She trembled hard, hips rolling, impaling herself on his fingers, his thumb circling her clit. Emma threw out her hand against the wall of the shower, bracing herself as she tumbled over the edge, his name on her lips. Killian stroked her through it, drawing it out until she went still. He kissed her damp temple, then reached for the foil packet on the ledge. It tore easily and he chucked it over the top of the door, his other hand deftly rolling the latex over his cock.

Killian spun Emma away from the spray and pushed her face first against the wet tile. His hands trailed down her ribcage, pulling her hips back, and spreading her legs as far as the shower would allow.

“Do you want me, Emma?” he asked, his voice rough with desire. If he didn't have her very very soon, he was going to lose his mind.

“Yes!”

Killian held her steady, entering her slowly, still not wanting to hurt her. They both moaned, Emma shoving her hips back, wanting more of him. “Tell me how this feels, love,” he bit out, sliding in and out slowly, the tightness of her completely addicting.

Emma's fingers curled into a fist, head falling between her arms. “Fuck, it's so  _good_ . Thick...and full. God, I'm so full.”

Killian's grip on her tightened, his hips moving just a little bit faster. Hearing those words definitely did something to him, something deep rooted and primal. “Foot up on the ledge,” he ordered. Emma did as he bid, her foot shaking. Then he slid just a little deeper inside, her walls fluttering. “Shit,” he cursed, his control beginning to fray.

“Fuck me, Killian,” Emma gasped, her palm pounding on the tile. “Don't hold back.”

He wasn't sure he could have stopped, even if he wanted to. She felt too good, her body too soft and pliant, need pouring out of her in waves. He took her roughly, pounding into her, skin and water slapping, a litany of cries falling from Emma's lips. They came together, her walls gripping him hard, her body shaking, Killian whispering her name over and over.

Killian held her close until she calmed, his chest against her back, arms around her waist. She was so small under him, but as she said earlier, she was tougher than she looked. And, it seemed, liked things a little rough. He brushed her wet hair aside and pressed gentle kisses to her skin. Passion and gentleness coexisted when it came to her, a dichotomy he wasn't used to.

“Alright there, love?” he asked.

“Hmmm, yeah.” She sounded blissed out and sated and he couldn't help the smirk. God, he loved pleasing her.

“We should finish the shower before it gets cold.”

“Okay.” Emma pushed herself off the tile and reached for the soap. “My turn.”

Clean and dry, Emma had to borrow some more of his clothes when they emerged from the bathroom. He had to literally bite his tongue when she pulled on his favorite UH tank and matching green boxers. The shirt hung on her, but seeing  _his_ clothing on  _her_ ...God, she was already undeniably sexy and that just made it worse. Not to mention the lack of underthings.

He almost thought she did it on purpose. Just to torment him.

“So what's in the basket, Swan?” he asked, hoping for a distraction. There were so many things he wanted to do to her... _patience, Jones._

“Well, since you made dinner on our last date, I thought I'd return the favor,” she said, sashaying into the kitchen.

“You're going to cook?”

“Is that so surprising?”

Killian shrugged. “If the princess wishes it, then please do.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You know I'm not a princess, right?”

Killian came up beside her and kissed her cheek. “I think it suits you.”

“I don't have any nicknames for you,” Emma admitted, a bit sheepish. “Isn't that a couple thing? Pet names?”

“Killian's enough,” he assured her. “Now, would you like some help for this feast?”

She shook her head. “You just get us some wine, and have a seat. We can talk while I cook.”

Killian got them both a glass of wine—way more expensive than anything he'd ever had, something from France—and settled in on a stool, watching her. It took her some time to figure out how everything in his kitchen worked; he opened his mouth a half dozen times to help, but he realized she wanted to do this herself, that it was important to her.

She started a couple of things in pots, consulting the cookbook she had propped up next to the stove. She looked rather adorable, hair pulled back in a lopsided bun, tongue poking out of her mouth as she thought. Part of him wanted to kiss the thoughtful frown off her face, pull her into his arms and call for Chinese, but he refrained.

“Um, how do you turn your oven on?” she asked sheepishly.

Killian hopped off his stool and came over to show her. “It's a bit tricky. It's old and doesn't always work the first time.” He turned the temperature dial to 350, then switched it from bake to broil and back again. They waited a couple of minutes, then he stuck his hand inside. “There. What temperature did you need?”

“400? I think.”

Killian moved the dial to the appropriate place. “Give it about fifteen minutes and it should be ready.”

“Thanks.”

He brushed some stray hair behind her ear. “It's my pleasure, love.”

Emma sucked her lip into her mouth, looking up at him through her lashes. “I, uh, know I said I didn't want you to help, but do you want to help me chop up some things for the casserole?”

“Sure.” He kissed her brow and went to where she had a variety of herbs and vegetables spread out. Emma brought the cookbook with her and together they followed the instructions, trying to make things look like they did in the picture. It was so _domestic_ ; it was hard to believe that he could be just as happy cooking beside her as he was being intimate with her.

Once everything was either simmering or baking, they settled on the couch with their wine. Emma cuddled into his side, her feet tucked up under her.

“What are you thinking about, love?” Killian asked after she'd been quiet for a while.

“Nothing.”

He smiled, kissing the top of her head. “Liar.”

“You won't like it.”

That had him slightly freaked out. “Why don't you try me?”

Emma sat up, a bit reluctant. “I don't want to dump my crap on you.”

“Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not crap, darling.”

To his surprise, her lip trembled. “You've never called me that before.”

“Should I not?”

“No, no, I like it. Let's just say the last guy I dated only used things like that...ironically.”

“Sounds like a right ponce so far.”

Emma snorted. “I'm not sure what that means, but you're probably right.” She pressed her hands lightly against his chest, her right settling over his heart. “But that's what I was thinking about. Just now. How different this... _we_ are. I mean that in a good way, in case you were wondering.”

“I hope so, considering how you were screaming my name earlier.”

Emma swatted his shoulder. “I meant more than  _that_ . Although that's pretty great too.”

“And we've only done that twice, love.” Then he cupped her cheek. “But I know what you mean.” He drew her in for a kiss, hoping it would distract him from some of the feelings swirling his head. Feelings that it was way too early to have. Wasn't it?

Emma crawled into his lap, short circuiting any line of thought. Her kisses grew needy, feverish. Killian's hands were up her (his) shirt in a flash, rubbing slow circles into the base of her spine.

“Why do I want you so much?” Emma asked, her tongue licking at his Adam's apple. Secretly, Killian was relieved. Relieved to know he wasn't the only one feeling like this. From that very first kiss, she was all he could think about, that spark between them blazing at a moment's notice. It was frightening and thrilling at the same time.

The hotter they burned was worse they could flame out.

And he didn't want that.  _Ever._

Emma ground into his lap, her hands tugging on her shirt...and the oven buzzed. She whined in complaint, still kissing him. Reluctantly, Killian pulled his hands back. “Swan.” Emma chased his lips, kissing him hard, pressing her forehead to his.

“I heard it. I'm going.” Killian gave her ass a swat as she got up, needing a few minutes before he could follow.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to deny the truth. He was falling in love with her. Without rhyme, or reason, or logic. But when was love logical? That's what all the songs said anyway.

What was he supposed to do now?

 


	5. Chapter 5

Emma woke to the smell of coffee.

She rolled over, muscles tight, twinging, and she groaned softly. Her hand hit the cold sheets next to her, causing her to frown. The smell of the coffee should have been a giveaway, but she felt a little disappointed that she was alone.

After their dinner the night before (which she didn't burn, thank you very much), they tumbled into his bed and hadn't left it, just as he'd promised. She still didn't know what it was about him—about them, together—that she craved so much, but it only seemed to get better. However, for all their physical intimacy, they spent a lot of the night talking, about stupid things like their favorite color, movies, books they'd read. Killian was very well read—which shouldn't have been a surprise considering the way he spoke—but they way he talked about the things he'd read had her fascinated.

He was so _passionate_ about everything, his work, his research, silly geeky debates, soccer...her. When they talked, he was always touching her, toying with her hair, feather light touches to her skin that warmed her, made her feel special. They told embarrassing stories, like the time she chugged four beer bongs in a row in college and threw it all up into the spiked punch or the time he switched out his brother's cleats before a match and he had to play in shoes two sizes too small. Whenever he spoke of Liam, Killian's eyes would shine with grief and sadness, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. She didn't ask, merely weaving their fingers together and squeezing gently.

And he would look at her and nod and she could tell he  _wanted_ to tell her, but was having trouble finding the words. And that was okay. For now, knowing he wanted to share was enough.

Emma got up, the smell of coffee getting stronger. She picked up the shirt she borrowed and slipped it on. She was halfway to the kitchen before running to the bathroom instead in horror. This was the first time she'd spent the night (and remembered it) with a guy in quite a while and she must have the  _worst_ morning breath ever. Neal had always said so, insisting she brush her teeth before kissing her. Emma didn't have her own toothbrush of course, but hopefully, Killian wouldn't mind if she borrowed his. She brushed quickly, the minty toothpaste easing her momentary anxiety.

Emma found Killian in the kitchen, making waffles.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he said, his face lighting up.

Emma fought to suppress a grin, not wanting to seem  _too_ eager. “I see you're taking advantage of the supplies I brought,” she replied, running her fingers lightly over his bare waist. Him standing in his kitchen bare chested as he made them breakfast was far more arousing than it had any right to be.  _Down, girl._

“Aye, they were much appreciated, especially since you're staying today.” There was a hint of doubt in that last bit, as if he wasn't quite sure she would, but hopeful all the same.

“I can stay as long as you want me.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, then moved to get a mug out of his cabinet. But before she could, he tugged her back and kissed her properly, loud and smacking, making her giggle. “Killian!”

“You used my toothpaste,” he accused, licking her bottom lip.

“Sorry?” She brushed her hands along his ribcage, feeling the muscles flex.

Killian gave her a little shake, humming. “No, it's fine. But you didn't have to.”

Emma's nose crinkled. “You know morning breath is a thing, right?”

Killian kissed the corner of her mouth, then released her. “Aye, but you didn't notice mine now, did you?” he teased.

Emma swatted at his chest. “Shut up.” Because no, she really hadn't. And that said more about her than she was willing to examine at the moment.

Instead, she got her coffee and added just the right amount of sugar. She took a sip, sighing contentedly. “That's really good.”

“I'm glad the lady approves.” He put some waffles on two plates and carried them to where he had a makeshift breakfast nook constructed. She followed and perched on the stool, nursing her coffee. “These might not be my best work,” he warned. “I've never made _wheat_ waffles before.”

Emma chuckled. “Sorry, it was the best I could come up with. At least they're not gluten free?”

Killian scowled. “Bloody nuisance that ruddy gluten free garbage. Who came up with that?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “God, don't get me started. My mother swears by it for some reason. I think it's disgusting. Give me some gluten and chocolate and fatty stuff please.”

Killian eyed her warily. “A sweet tooth? I would have never guessed.”

Emma took a sip of her coffee, then dug into her pancakes. “Don't get me wrong,” she said after swallowing, “I'm all for eating healthy and exercising, but come  _on_ . If I have to do that and never have a Kit Kat again, then I'll pass.” She took another bite, maple syrup dribbling down her chin. “Hmm, these are good.”

Killian swiped his thumb over the little dent in her chin, then licked the syrup off. “Everything in moderation, eh?”

She licked her lips. “I don't know, there are  _some_ things I don't mind binging on.”

“That so? Would you care to enlighten me?”

Already, she could feel that pull, that spark begin to flicker to life. His eyes darkened  _just_ a bit, his lips curved into the most salacious smirk. Emma shrugged. “Maybe after breakfast. If you're lucky.”

Twenty minutes later—breakfast consumed, dishes in the sink—Killian picked her up from behind and hoisted her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. Emma shrieked, surprised, only putting up the briefest of struggles until she realized where he was taking her.

“Killian!”

“What? That _wasn't_ a blatant invitation to take you back to bed?” He ran his hand up along her bare legs, seeking out the spot behind her knee that made her shiver. A spot she hadn't even known existed before their day at the beach.

Emma bit her lip. “You're not...oh...playing fair!”

“Who said anything about fair?” His lips brushed her skin, her borrowed shirt riding up and exposing her ass. “Because _you_ , love, are entirely _not_ fair.” He put her down, the bed bouncing under her. He crawled in after her, licking his lips. “In fact, you're positively _sinful.”_

Emma's breath flew out in a rush as he kissed her, hard, his warm calloused hands gliding over her legs. She nibbled on his lip, drawing it between her teeth, heat already pooling in her stomach. Killian growled, the sound going straight to her clit, making her core throb. God, she wanted to hear him make that sound over and over.

Using a move she learned in mixed martial arts, she flipped them over, Killian landing on a the bed with a grunt. “Swan?”

She straddled his hips, grinding down, making him hiss. “My turn to play,” she said, a finger to his lips. He nodded, his eyes wide and dark, pupils blown. He sucked her finger into his mouth, tongue licking at her flesh. Emma ran her other hand down his chest, nails scraping, playing over the taut muscles. She couldn't get over how gorgeous he was, dark hair, broad shoulders, trim waist, lean muscles, hard where she was soft. She loved the way they molded together, the way his coarse hair rubbed over her skin. Her hand slid down further, following the dark trail that disappeared into his boxers.

Emma swept her long hair over her shoulder and ducked down, mouth hot on his skin. She licked and sucked and nibbled, marking his collar with a rather large bruise. It matched one he'd left on her the night before, in almost the same place. Killian groaned, his hands moving down to cup her ass, kneading, squeezing.

Emma pushed her hips back into his hands, another wave of desire rolling through her. “Just can't help yourself, can you?” she asked, laughing into his chest. She licked his nipple, biting down gently.

“Perhaps you should restrain me, if you don't like it,” he growled, giving her a light smack. Emma moaned, loudly, her forehead falling to his chest. His hand rubbed over her. “What's this?” He smacked her again, just a tic harder. “Do you like that?”

Emma dug her nails into his skin. “What would you do if I said yes?”

“Oh bloody _hell_ ,” he cursed. His left hand came up, fisting in her hair, dragging her lips back to his, kissing her roughly. “You are such a _naughty_ girl, love.”

Emma wiggled above him, wrenching his hand back down, his tone short circuiting rational thought. She cried out as he spanked her again, the pain blossoming into pleasure. Her eyes squeezed shut, stunned by how much she enjoyed it. Whimpers and moans tumbled from her lips, her fist tightening in the sheet next to Killian's head.

“Oh my _god_ ,” she gasped. She bit her kiss swollen lips, hissing when his fingers slipped between her legs.

“Fuck, you are so _wet_.” He teased her slit, playing with her, her breathing getting shallower. “Can I taste you?” Two fingers slid inside her and she nodded furiously, not trusting her voice. Killian rolled them over, dragging Emma to the middle of the bed. He pressed his fingers to her lips, letting her taste herself there. She sucked on them greedily, the tang sweet on her tongue.

Killian cursed again, pushing her shirt up. Then he was between her legs, hands under ass, lifting her up to his hungry mouth. Emma cried out, sharp and loud, his tongue doing positively _sinful_ things to her. He lapped at her slit, running the length, teasing her entrance. Emma grabbed for the rungs of his headboard, back arching, pressure coiling in her gut.

“Sweet,” he whispered, lowering her to the bed, pressing her thighs wider apart. “Sweet, so pretty and pink and wet.” He nibbled on her folds, his scruff scratching. It was burning her up from the inside, hot and erotic and almost _too_ much.

“Don't stop,” she pleaded, head thrashing. “Fuck.”

“No,” he swore, giving her nice long lick. “Never.” He sucked her clit into his mouth, tongue swirling around the aching nub; Emma bucked her hips, a jolt shooting up her spine. Killian held her down, hand on her trembling stomach, his mouth relentless. Emma tightened her grip, knuckles white, desperate for some kind of anchor.

“Oh _god_. Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck!”_ Emma screamed, the world exploding behind her eyes. Her heart was racing, her skin tingling, she had no idea which way was up or down or _anything._

And there was still a dull ache inside her that could only be filled one way.

“I love watching you fall apart for me,” Killian whispered, kissing the inside of her thigh. Emma shivered, her eyes fluttering open. He had a smug grin on his handsome face, one she had to admit was entirely earned. That was by far the best she'd ever had.

Emma uncurled her fingers from the headboard and sat up, peeling the sweat soaked tank from her body. She smiled at him, still breathing a bit hard, crooking her finger in invitation. Killian needed no further prompting, returning her grin and pulling her into his arms. Her hands slid over him, palming him, making him growl again.

“Bloody minx.” He shoved at his boxers, his cock springing free and she rubbed her hand over it, jerking and stroking, relishing every sound, every curse. It made her feel wild and wanton and _wanted_. Killian wanted her and never failed to let her know how much.

“I can't...get...the...sodding...things... _off_ ,” he complained, trying to touch her and get his boxers off at the same time.

Emma pushed him onto his back, reaching for the tangled cloth. She pulled them down his legs, freeing him at last. She dug in the nightstand for the foil packet she knew was in there—she'd become _very_ familiar with that in the last twelve hours or so—before straddling his thighs. He leered at her, admiring the view, his smug expression cut off when she took him into her hand again. She curled the foil into her free hand, still stroking, watching the emotions play on his face. He looked wrecked and debauched, hair sticking up, cheeks flushed.

Emma smirked, loving the power she currently had over him. “I _really_ want you in me,” she said, her voice low and seductive. “But I think I want to taste you first.” Killian's retort got swallowed by a moan when she ducked to take him into her mouth. She sucked hard on his tip, relishing his answering shout. He bucked into her mouth, or tried to, his movement hampered by her body weight. Emma kept her eyes on him as she worked him over, licking and swirling, until he begged her to stop.

“One of these days I'm going to finish you like that,” she said, giving him a few moments to recover, her hands resting on his hips.

“One day, I'll let you. But I don't want to leave you unsatisfied, love.”

“Now _that_ is an idea I can get behind,” she replied, pushing her hair back before leaning down to kiss him soundly. She scooted up, grinding her hips directly over his thick cock, teasing them both. He rubbed right into her clit, making her ache even more for him. She pulled away abruptly, tearing the foil. Emma tossed the pack and rolled the condom on. “I want you to watch. Watch me ride you.”

Killian nodded, eyes hooded, watching her. Emma eased herself down, letting him fill her up, a long moan tearing from her throat. Christ, he felt so _good_ inside her; she couldn't get enough. Her hips rolled, she rose and fell, lost to the sensations.

“There's a good girl,” Killian murmured, his hands skimming up her body, cupping her bouncing breasts. “Christ, you're stunning.”

Emma whimpered, covering his hands with hers, helping him touch her, make her feel _so fucking good._ “God, Killian...” She picked up her pace, the thick slide of him, stretching her, hitting deeply...she needed _more._ “Ahhh, fuck, yes...so good.”

“Faster, Swan,” he bit out, tweaking her nipple. “Let me see you fall apart.”

Emma dragged one set of joined hands down to her cleft, her hips jerking when they found her clit. “Yessss,” she hissed. Her hips kept rolling, undulating over him, head thrown back as they touched her, stroked her, the pressure nearing a breaking point. “Fuck, I'm gonna come. Oh god, _yes_!”

She quaked and shook, the pleasure pulsing through her, her walls fluttering around him. Killian kept stroking her, his hips jerking, rolling up into her, another wave of pleasure rocking her, dragging _another_ orgasm out of her. She fell forward, chest heaving, Killian's hoarse shout filling her ears as he followed her over the edge.

She didn't know how long it took her to regain her senses, Killian's warm body the only thing she knew as she lay there draped over him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tenderly stroking her back.

“Mmhmm.” She was still pretty high, her body sated. She also wasn't certain she could move.

“Love, are you _sure?”_

“100% positive.”

“Do you want to move?”

“Do you need me to?”

“No. You're perfect exactly where you are.”

Emma laughed weakly, snuggling into his chest. She stretched out over him, drifting off into a light slumber.

When she woke up again, Killian was spooning her from behind. “Hey.”

“Hey.” His arm tightened around her middle and she sighed. “Feeling better?”

“I was never _not_ fine. In fact, I feel _very_ good.”

Killian nuzzled her neck. “Aye, you do.”

“Now who's being dirty?”

“Admit it, Swan. You love it.”

She half shrugged. “Maybe.” She turned to face him, her hand reaching up to thumb at the scar on his cheek. “So is it my turn?”

“For what?”

“Aren't we still doing that thing? The getting to know you thing?”

Killian ran his hand down her side, over her hip. “If you want. I always love finding out new things about you, Emma.” His eyes searched her face. “Although, if I may, I do have a question.”

“Shoot.”

He chuckled. “Do you remember that, um, move you did? Where did you learn that?”

Emma flushed, surprised he remembered that. “Well, when I was fourteen, I wanted to take martial arts classes.”

“You?”

“I don't even remember why anymore. But I managed to convince Elsa it was a good idea. We did it all through high school.” Or in her case, _private_ high school. Emma only had a vague notion of what a public school looked like from TV.

“The more I hear about this Elsa, the more I'd like to meet her.”

Emma scowled. “Should I be jealous?”

Killian kissed her, his lips warm and soft. “Absolutely not.” He kissed her nose. “I'm just happy to hear you have at least one real friend in that place.”

Emma smiled. “Yeah, Elsa's great. Closest thing to a sister I ever had.” She looked away, suddenly reminded of a lingering sadness. “My parents...couldn't have any more children after me. Something went wrong while Mom was in labor. I almost didn't make it or so they tell me.” Her parents rarely ever spoke of it and Emma was too young at first to really understand. She was eight when her dad explained what happened, that Mommy couldn't give her the brother or sister she wanted.

Killian pulled her close, cradling her head. “I'm sorry, love.”

“It's fine.”

“No, it's not.” Emma wondered if she'd brought up bad memories of Liam, but his gaze only held concern and empathy. She tucked her head under his chin and let him hold her. She felt safe, even though she'd only known him for a few weeks. They shared a connection she couldn't explain, more importantly, didn't want to.

All she knew was this was the happiest she'd been in a very long time.

* * *

Killian slammed the book down in frustration. August had flaked... _again_ , the third time in less than two weeks. Now the Memorial Day holiday was coming up and Robin needed him to work. He'd been planning on taking Emma out on his boat for the weekend; the weather would be clear, they could see even more stars away from the shore. He was going to show her how to navigate. It would even be a chance to check his traps.

But _no_. August flaked—if he wasn't fired by the time Killian got there, he was going to murder Robin—and Killian was too good of a friend to say no. Not to mention he still could use the extra cash. Being with Emma was putting stains on his finances that he hadn't anticipated.

Gathering his temper, he rang Emma. “Hey, I was just about to call you,” she said.

“Emma, I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel our excursion.”

There was a pause. “That sucks. What's up?”

“I got called into work unexpectedly. I am so sorry.”

“It's okay.” But he could hear the sadness in her voice. A sadness he shared. He lived for the time he got to spend with her. “Maybe next weekend?”

“I will make sure of it, lass. I promise.” Even if he had to work overtime during the week he would make sure they got that trip. And Robin owed him. Big time.

“I know you will.”

“So what will you do without a devilishly handsome sailor to take you out on the water?”

Emma laughed. “I'm sure I'll find something to do.”

“Like what?” He was stalling. On purpose, reluctant to let her go. Now that he knew how he felt—even though it scared him shitless—he was fighting the urge to say it. He'd almost slipped a couple of times in the days since their beach date. He didn't want to scare her, or put undue pressure on her. She was still just _visiting_ , even though she made no effort to go home. She seemed happy here, happy with _him_.

“I don't know. Maybe some shopping? Horseback riding?”

“You can ride a horse?”

“I haven't in years; my mom used to take me when I was little.”

“Well, maybe we can change that.”

“You ride?”

“Yep.”

“You sail, ride horses, fix cars, save sea creatures. Is there anything you don't do?”

Killian laughed, deep and throaty. “Fly?”

He didn't need to see her to know she was rolling her eyes. “You're hilarious.”

“I know.” He looked at the clock. “Bloody hell. I've got to go. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay. Don't work too hard.” They said their goodbyes and hung up. Killian grabbed his overalls and keys before heading out to his Jeep.

“I'm really sorry about this, Killian.”

Killian merely nodded, going to look over the work orders. Robin wasn't exactly on his list of favorite people at the moment.

“I don't know what happened; he had great references and everything.”

“Mate, there's nothing we can do about it now. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“But you were going to take your girlfriend out on your boat. I know what a big deal that is for you.”

Killian rounded on his friend, his temper flaring. “I'm sorry, mate, but you really _don't_. If you understood what Liam means to me, what _Emma_ means to me, then you wouldn't talk about things you don't understand.”

He started to stalk off—if he stayed he might wind up saying something he regretted—but Robin grabbed his arm. “Did you say _Emma?_ ”

_Son of a bitch._ He was angry and once more his tongue got the better of him. But there were a lot of Emmas, right? It was a common enough name. “Aye, what of it?”  _Bluff your way out, Jones._

“Have a picture of her?”

“Why?”

“Do you or don't you?”

He remember that day at the beach, when she'd snapped those pictures of the two of them. He'd used a smaller version as her caller ID picture because he loved her smile in it. “Haven't got me phone. Sorry.”

Killian got about five paces before Robin called out. “Her last name wouldn't be Nolan, would it?”

He visibly deflated.  _Bloody hell_ . He was in for it now. With a heavy heart, Killian pulled out his phone and pulled up the picture. “Here she is, mate.”

Robin took his phone, studying the picture. The longer he looked the more pensive he became. “Oh Killian. Please tell me you didn't.”

“Would you rather I lied?”

Robin sighed, handing back the phone. “No, I suppose not. How did this happen?”

Killian gestured for them to go to Robin's office. Once settled, he told Robin everything, from dropping her luggage to the coffee to their early dates, leaving out the more intimate parts, of course. Killian was a gentleman; he didn't kiss and tell.

“You knew this entire time she was a guest and yet you're still with her?” He didn't sound judgmental, just worried.

“I know, alright? I know I shouldn't. I've told myself that a thousand times.”

“So why are you?”

“Because I love her.” There. He'd said it. Out loud. He loved her. He, Killian Jones, loved Emma Nolan. His lovely Swan.

Robin ran his hands through his hair. “Killian, now don't take this the wrong way...but you just met her a few weeks ago.”

Killian crossed his arms stubbornly. “I seem to recall you telling us a story about how you knew Marian was the one after an evening playing cards.”

“That's different.”

“How?”

“Because...” Robin was clearly scrambling for _something_ to dissuade him. “Because I was young and stupid. Naive. You've worked so hard, Killian. You're nearly there. Why do this now?”

Killian stood up, angry all over again. “Do you honestly think I bloody  _planned_ this, Robin? I had one plan. Get through the summer, go graduate and get off this accursed rock! Go make a name for myself doing what I love, what I  _swore_ to my brother I would do.”

“You still can, Killian.”

“I can't give her up. I won't. She's the first...in a bloody long time.”

“What about everything else?”

“Are you gonna rat me out?”

Robin looked indignant. “Of course not!” He stood, coming around the desk and taking Killian by the shoulders. “Is she worth it?”

He looked Robin dead in the eye. “Aye. She's worth everything.”

“Then you've got me in your corner. I just want you to be happy, if she does that for you, then I can respect that.”

“Thanks, dad.”

Robin punched him in the shoulder. “Sod off.”

“Speaking of which, how did _you_ know her?”

“She punctured two tires driving over some busted glass on the road to her bungalow...maybe two weeks ago? Less? Something like that. She was nice.”

Killian was a bit nonplussed at that. She had mechanical trouble and didn't call him?  _Don't be silly, Jones, she's a bloody adult._ And she'd just come from his place, if Robin was recalling the evening correctly. He could ask her about it later.

“Did she really give you an apple?”

Killian blinked, dragged from his thoughts. “Oh aye. Right angry I was about it too. Thought she was a bloody cheapskate!”

“Well, she definitely not that. Perhaps she was merely jetlagged.”

“I dunno. She comes from a pretty privileged background; I'm pretty sure her parents have servants, things like that.” Killian had to admit; he was bit relieved to be able to talk about her. He hadn't realized how much he'd been holding in in the weeks since she'd turned his world upside down.

“I'd really like to meet her...properly. Although I suppose given the circumstances, you'd want to wait?”

Killian groaned. “She doesn't know, Robin.”

“You have to tell her. You owe her that, especially given the risk you're taking.”

“I know. I just...don't want her to look at me differently.”

“Why would she do that?”

Killian shook his head. “You didn't know me before, mate. You don't know what I've done.” No one did, except Will. Killian was on the cusp of telling Emma; he'd tried once or twice. She seemed to sense it, but hadn't pushed, for which he'd been grateful. But he didn't want to dump all of his secrets on her, especially this early in their relationship

“Keeping secrets is never good, Killian,” Robin warned.

Killian sighed heavily. “I know. Just...let me do this in my own way, okay?”

“Fine. Does Will know?”

“He's met her, but he doesn't know who she is, not really. And he doesn't know about her staying here.”

“You should probably tell him, before he figures it out. He's not as...discreet as I am.”

Killian raised a sardonic brow. “Like you and Regina?”

Robin nearly choked. “I'm sorry...what?”

Killian grinned. “I bloody  _knew_ it! I knew there was something odd about you and her!”

“Would you bloody well keep it down?” Robin hissed. “Regina would fire us _both_.”

“Even her _boyfriend?_ ”

Robin took a swing at him, but it held no force. “This makes me a huge hypocrite, doesn't it, mate?”

“Well, it doesn't help your cause, Robin.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “But your secret's safe with me.”

Killian called Will as soon as he got home, even though it was late. Robin was right; Will wouldn't take the news as well. He already had some sort of chip on his shoulder when it came to Emma; Killian had noticed his friend's less than friendly greeting when they'd met.

The shouting started sooner than he expected.

“Are ya bloody well _out_ of yer mind? I mean, I _knew_ ya were _stupid_ but I didn't think ya were this stupid!”

“Will...”

But Will pressed on as if he hadn't heard. “What on earth were ya  _thinking?_ I knew that girl was trouble, I smelled it on 'er the moment I laid eyes on 'er! But no, ya get turned into a ruddy lovesick puppy for a piece of ass! She must be good, for ya to be this much of a bloody idiot!”

Killian's hand crashed into Will's jaw, hard. “Don't you  _ever_ talk about her like that again! Do you hear me?”

“Like what? Ya can't tell me yer not screwing her, I saw ya with me own bloody eyes!”

Killian punched him again, blood spurting out of his nose. “Just because Anastasia left you doesn't mean every woman is a bitch!”

“Don't you bring Ana into this, you fuckin' arse! This had nothin' to do with her!”

“Doesn't it? She left you for another man, a rich one at that. I'm not with Emma for her money, I don't give a shit about that!”

Will wiped at his nose, scowling at him. “So it makes no difference? None a'tall? You come from different worlds,  _mate_ ,” he spat. “How do you think she's gonna react when she finds out the truth? About Liam?”

“I don't know,” Killian said honestly. “But I do know that I love her.”

Will cursed. “You don't even know what love  _is_ , mate. This is the easy part, where it's all sunshine and roses and ya can't keep yer hands off each other. Wait til yer first fight, Jones. Then we'll see who's right.” He went over to Killian's sink and spat blood into it. Then he turned and walked out.

Killian dialed Emma's number before the door was fully closed. He needed to hear her voice. “Killian?”

“Hi, Swan. Listen, I know it's late, but...could I perhaps...come over? I'd really like to see you.”

“What's happened?”

“Nothing, nevermind.” Christ, it was nearly midnight, she must have been getting ready for bed. His Swan could be a nightowl.

“Killian, it's not nothing. Come on over.”

He arrived at her bungalow twenty minutes later. When she opened the back door, she was wearing the clothes he'd lent her the first time she'd slept in his bed. She must have been using them as pajamas. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He stepped into the house, then immediately into her arms. She didn't argue, just held him tight, cradling his head. It reminded him of something his mother used to do when he and Liam were small.

“Killian, is everything okay?” she asked gently.

“I had a nasty row with Will, the bleeding arse.”

Emma pulled back, carefully examining his face. “Did this  _row_ ,” she said, trying to imitate his accent, “involve fisticuffs?”

“Possibly.”

“There are tiny flecks of blood on your face.” She held up his hand. “And this.” His knuckles were cracked and bloody, mostly dry now.

“It's mostly his blood if that makes you feel better.”

Emma huffed. “Yeah, I feel loads better that my boyfriend got into a fight with his very best friend...over what exactly?”

He tried not to perk up at the casual—yet still sarcastic—way she said 'boyfriend,' but it was difficult. “Actually, it was a fight about you.”

Emma had been pulling him toward the spare bathroom—to get him cleaned up he presumed—but froze as soon as the words were out of his mouth.  _“Me?_ But why?”

There were several reasons, but Killian decided to go with the simplest. “Will's, er, got a bit of a bad history with women.”

“But I didn't do anything to him. Why me?”

Killian scratched behind his ear. “It's got nothing to do with you. Bloody hell, he'll murder me for telling you this, but...he came here a few years ago, even before me. Wanted to get a new start with his girlfriend, lass by the name of Anastasia. They were here about six months when she left him for another,  _richer_ bloke. He's not been the same since.”

“So he thinks I'm gonna break your heart or something?”

_Oh, if only it were that simple._ “Something like that. He said some...nasty,  _rude_ things about you and I punched him.”

Emma still looked confused. “But that doesn't make sense! And he doesn't even  _know_ me!”

“Emma...Swan, I _know_. Will's irrational, is all. He's never really gotten over that bloody harpy. To this day he won't look twice at a blonde, because they all remind him of his bloody Ana.”

“Did you really punch him?”

Killian held up his hand. “Twice. Second time in the nose, hence the blood.”

Emma sighed exasperatedly, then pulled him into the bathroom. She dug out a first aid kit under the sink. “Do all of your arguments end with bloodshed?”

“No. This was a special case.” He tried to hold still while Emma scrubbed the blood off his face with an antiseptic wipe.

“I don't want to come between you and your friends, Killian.”

“Emma, you're _not_. Will and I will be ranting about how terrible England is by the end of the week, you'll see.”

She gave him a tiny smile. “Well, thank you for...defending me or whatever, even though you didn't have to.”

“My pleasure.”

Emma poured alcohol over his battered knuckles and Killian jerked. “I'm pretty sure it's a pleasure you could do without though, right?”

He sucked it a breath; god, it stung like a bitch. “Have you and Elsa never quarreled?”

Emma shook her head. “We got into the  _worst_ fights when I was with...the last guy I dated. She saw him for who he really was...I missed it completely.”

“You were in love, I would imagine.” He said it softly, the idea of Emma being with someone else—even before she met him—a tiny knife in his heart. Which was the height of ridiculousness; Emma didn't owe him anything. She was with him _now_.

Emma wrapped the bandage around his hand. “I thought I was. Now I wonder.” She repacked the first aid kit and put it away. “Come on, let's go to bed and you can tell me the real reason you came over.”

They walked hand in hand to her bedroom. Killian kicked off his shoes and removed his pants and shirt before joining Emma in the bed. She sat up, pillows against the headboard, waiting expectantly. Killian took her left hand in his toying with the fingers, the silence getting longer and longer.

“I've never told you about Liam,” he said at last, threading their fingers together and holding on to her.

“Well, you've told me some stuff. Like he played soccer. And he showed you the starfish. I gathered you two were close.”

Killian laughed, but it was hollow. “Aye. Despite our age difference, we were quite close. Closer after my father left.” If he was going to tell the story, might as well do it properly.

“Where did he go?”

Killian shrugged. “Dunno. Just up and left when I was about seven or eight. Can't really remember. But he left my mother with two sons to raise by herself. And we lived in a council estate.”

“But things were fine for a while. I mean, not _fine_ , but I don't know...” Emma huffed in frustration. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget we have different frame of reference. Please. I won't interrupt again.”

Killian leaned in and kissed her temple. She may not completely understand, but she was trying. “Aye, well, we survived. Liam and I went to school. Played football and the like. Liam was good, he even tried out for the under 18s and made it, the arse. Wouldn't shut up about it for weeks.” Killian sighed, remembering. He'd so envious of his brother then. What he wouldn't give to take that back. “Anyway, he'd just gotten his driving license. Mother had asked him to take me by our school for...oh what do you call them here? Science fair? I had project—the anatomy of a jellyfish sting—and she had to work. So he remembered to take me, but...forgot to pick me up again. I was waiting and waiting, and it got dark. Finally, he showed up, but it was obvious he'd been drinking.”

Killian could still see his brother's glassy eyes. “I was tall for my age, so I managed to convince him to let me drive.”

“Oh Killian.” Emma tightened her hold on his hand, almost as if she knew what he was going to say.

“We were arguing, Liam insisting I was going to rat on him to Mother.” He took a deep breath, his throat threatening to close up entirely. “The brakes on the lorry were faulty. It was out of control, swerving all over the bloody place. I wasn't watching, shouting at Liam and...and it side swiped us. The car flipped...I don't know how many times. I was wearing a seat belt. Liam wasn't.”

Emma rubbed her thumb over his bandaged knuckles. “I found him a few feet away in a ditch. He was still conscious, but barely. He made me...” Killian took another breath, tears stinging his eyes. “He made me promise to live out my dream, since he couldn't have his.”

He wasn't going to cry, damn it. He wasn't...Killian choked on a sob and Emma pulled him against her chest, holding him as he cried. He hadn't cried since his mother's funeral left him all alone in the world. Emma didn't ply him platitudes, she didn't say it would be okay or that she was sorry. She just held him until his tears were spent.

“I know this is the least helpful thing to hear, but it wasn't your fault,” she said at last.

“I wouldn't get in a car for months, _years_ afterward. Walked everywhere. Until Mother got sick. As she got weaker I was the only person who could drive her to the hospital.”

“When did she die?”

“Just after I finished school. I left for Hawaii not long after.”

Emma squeezed his shoulder. “I'm glad you told me. I know it wasn't easy.” She got him to sit up, then cradled his face in her hands. “Why don't you stay here tonight. I can rebandage your hand before you go to work.”

“Okay.” The truth was he was emotionally zapped—between the quarrel with Will and telling Emma the horrible truth about his brother—he really didn't want to be alone.

And now he didn't have to be.

Emma gave him a tender smile and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Besides, I like waking up next to you.”

They fell asleep not long after, arms wrapped around each other.

* * *

Emma scowled into her closet, frustrated and annoyed. She was supposed to be packing a bag for the weekend, but she had no idea what would be suitable for spending two days out on the water. She owned a lot of cashmere and silk and high end cotton, blouses and shirts designed for the runway not manual labor. She'd bought some new things since arriving on the island, some expensive, some not. Killian had gotten her a souvenir t-shirt from the local shrimp joint as a gag gift, but she wore it to bed on the nights when she wasn't wearing something else of his. Or nothing.

Her bed hadn't actually been slept in since the night Killian had come over bloody. After what he'd told her about Liam, she didn't want him to be alone. So she made up excuses to come over, which Killian saw through pretty quickly. On Tuesday he'd given her a key to his apartment so she wouldn't have to wait in the hall for him to get home. They fell into a pattern, having breakfast together, Emma going out to shop for the evening meal while Killian worked.

What he didn't know was that she'd brought her laptop and was taking peeks at his school books while he was away.

It was something that had been percolating for a while. She'd come to the Hawaii to figure out what she wanted, to sort out her life. She wanted to find her niche, to hopefully use her name and considerable resources to make a difference...somewhere.

Killian had given her inspiration and didn't even know it yet.

It was still kernel of an idea. A way to combine a love of the ocean with her business sense. Perhaps save a few endangered species. Make the ocean safer for everyone. The reserves around the islands, she was finding, were woefully underfunded, undermanaged, under everything really. There were good people, but not enough money. She was still researching, but there had to be _something._ She just hadn't figured out what that was yet.

If she could get a proposal together, get her parents to take seriously...it was all she wanted really. To be given a chance. To succeed or fail on her own terms.

She hadn't told Killian any of this yet, however. Not because she was scared or doubted herself, but she knew he was dealing with a lot. Talking about his past had opened old wounds; he tried to pretend that he was fine, but Emma knew better. He was very subdued for a couple of days, not sharing their usual banter. Emma hadn't realized how much she enjoyed his innuendos until he stopped making them.

They were nearly back to normal now, his mood improving as their rescheduled date got closer. Now it was Friday night and she was trying to pack after Killian more or less kicked her out of his place. He wanted to be surprised, he'd said, to treat this like a proper date. Which included picking her up.

It was endearingly sweet and she didn't have the heart to refuse him. It was a simple enough request.

Her thoughts got interrupted by an incessant knocking on her door. Emma raced from her bedroom, wondering who in the hell would be bothering her at this hour. Killian always called first.

“Will?”

Will Scarlet stood on the other side of the threshold, looking both wary and defiant. She knew for a fact that Killian hadn't spoken to him since their fight; they were both stubborn it seemed. Will's nose was still a little bruised and...crooked? She couldn't tell. Maybe it was always like that.

“Killian's not here,” she said. What other reason could he have for coming?

“Tha's good, cuz I'm not 'ere to see 'im. May I?” He gestured behind her, as if she would just let him in.

“What do you want?”

Will held up his hands. “I just want to talk. I swear. I come in...how do you Yanks put it? _I come in peace._ ” He sounded like a robot from a bad sci-fi movie.

Emma swallowed and stepped back, allowing Will to come in. She shut the door firmly, keeping her hands loose at her sides, just in case. She didn't want to hurt him, but that was up to Will. She wasn't putting up with his shit, whatever it was.

“So I, ah, assume ya heard?”

Emma raised an incredulous brow. “That you insulted me with no provocation and Killian punched you? Yes, I know.”

“What exactly did he tell ya?”

“He told me everything. Why are you here? You clearly despise me and have come to that conclusion based on _one_ meeting.”

“I don't despise ya, lass.”

Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “I don't believe you.”

Will shoved his hands in his pockets, scowling. “Don't know ya well enough to despise ya. But I don't trust ya.”

What the hell? Just where did he get off anyway? “You don't trust Killian either, do you? Some friend you are.”

Will glared daggers at her. “That man is my best mate in the whole world. I trust him with me life.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

Will sighed and started to pace. “Look, lass. I'm not here to apologize to ya. What happened is between me and Killian. An' it's gonna stay that way. But he cares about ya, lord knows why. Won't bloody listen to me, but that's love for ya.” Emma had a sharp intake of breath at that. Killian _loved_ her? She had to tamp down on her momentary panic because Will was still talking. “I don't want to see him get hurt. He's been through too much bloody heartbreak for several lifetimes.”

That got her to find her voice. “I would _never_...”

Will cut her off. “They all say that, lass. Believe me, I know.”

The flash of grief in his eyes stung her. Could he really be human in there somewhere? “Anastasia?”

“How did ya know about that?” Will snarled.

“Hey, calm down there, Godzilla. Don't be angry at him, but Killian told me. Well, the basics anyway. He was trying to get me to understand what happened with you two. It's not his fault.”

“Bloody berk,” Will grumbled. “He had _no_ right...”

Emma got in Will's face, fist curling in the front of his shirt. “I _said_ leave him alone. He's still your friend. But that won't stop me from _also_ punching you in the face. Are we clear?”

Will stared into her eyes for a long moment, but nodded. Emma let go of him and backed off; he smelled faintly of whiskey, even though he wasn't drunk. “I can be civil for his sake. Don't make me regret it, lass.” With another nod of his head, he swept past her and out the door. It closed behind him with a click.

That was just great.

Emma pushed everything aside (including a certain word Will had used) and went back to her packing. She hardly saw what she put in, trying to work as mindlessly as possible. If she thought too much, she'd just reexamine every moment she ever had with Killian, wondering if she loved him too.

Killian picked her up early the next morning; it was cooler than usual, he was wearing a light jacket over his tank top, as was she. There were goosebumps on her exposed legs, which weren't entirely from the chill as Killian openly stared. She kissed him sweetly, hoping she didn't betray her nerves. Killian noticed nothing amiss, smiling that dimpled grin at her and putting them on the road to the marina.

Emma kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to see if he seemed different. He appeared to be the same man that she knew, steady, cracking the occasional joke. He'd snatch up her hand at the stoplights, his thumb brushing her knuckles before releasing her. He was always touching her, not that she minded. Maybe he was just an affectionate person?

When they arrived, Emma helped carry their supplies down the dock. It was quite a walk; Killian's slip was a few rows down in the large marina. Even though it was early, there were quite a few people out and about, clearly having the same idea.

“Well, here she is,” he said softly. “The _Jolly Roger II_.”

“You named it after Captain Hook's ship?” Emma asked with a smile. She shouldn't be surprised, given how much Killian liked the story.

“ _She_ , Swan. Ships are always referred to in the female.”

“Why's that?”

“It's tradition. Something to do with ships being named after the captain's sweetheart centuries past.”

“Oh.” In this case, _she_ was a small ship with a sail, about twenty feet long. She was painted white with red and yellow accent stripes, the ship's name scrawled in looping cursive on the back. The engine was pulled up out of the water, just waiting for them.

“Let's get these things stowed, then we can head out.” The sky was mostly clear, only a few puffy white clouds marring the blue sky. Killian stepped aboard first, holding out his hand for her. She accepted and followed him, swaying a little bit as the boat rocked.

“Um, this is a good idea for the klutzy person to be doing?” she asked, only half joking.

“You'll get your sea legs soon enough, Swan. I promise.” Sure, it was easy when _he_ said it. But as it turned out, he was right. Again. Within ten minutes, she was climbing about, handing things down the ladder to Killian, like she'd always been aboard.

_Swans are graceful in the water, Emma._ She smiled to herself, appreciating Killian's nickname for her in a way she hadn't before. How did he always seem to know?

Emma only grumbled a little when he made her put on a life vest. “They'll have my head if we leave here without them,” he informed her. As he helped her strap it on, he brushed his hand tenderly over her neck. “I won't make you wear it the  _whole_ time, love.” He pulled a little on the strap of her mostly hidden bikini. “Blue today, huh?”

She smirked at him. “You'll just have to wait and see.”

He growled softly, covering her mouth with his in a too brief kiss. “You do love to torment me, don't you, Swan?”

“It's a hobby.” Her hands slipped around his waist, under his jacket so she could touch him without being seen. Fingers inched below the waistband of his trunks, teasing the warm skin. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Never.” He kissed her again, then pulled away, shrugging into his own life jacket. “Best have a seat until I get us out of the harbor, love.” She did as he asked, putting her sunglasses back on. The sun was getting higher every minute, the chill burning off slowly. Emma relished the wind in her face as they sped toward the open ocean. The salty scent got even stronger once they were away from the shore, the water deep blues and greens she'd never seen before. Emma leaned a bit over the rail, just watching.

“If we're lucky, we might see some dolphins!” Killian shouted over the roar.

Emma turned, grinning. She would definitely like that. First, however, Killian had to go check his traps. Killian guided them expertly, one hand on the sleek metal wheel, pausing occasionally to point something out. Emma was surprised at how much there was  _to_ see considering it was daylight and there weren't many other people around.

This was so much better than staying on the shore and watching.

They spent the first couple of hours tracking down all of Killian's traps. There were about a dozen of them, all marked by buoys to warn other sailors and surfers. There were some of them out as well, catching the early morning waves.

“Is nighttime the _only_ time people don't surf around here?” Emma asked, clipboard in her hand. She was copying down the readings as Killian read them off to her, hoping to speed things up.

“Don't say that too loudly, Swan. I bet there are some crazy wankers who try it then as well.”

“I don't get the appeal.”

“You've never tried it?”

Emma huffed. “Have you met me? It'd just be embarrassing.”

“You're not completely uncoordinated, love. I bet you dance rather well.”

“How did we go from surfing to dancing?”

“We didn't. _I_ did. And now that I think about it, I've yet to see you dance.” He put the last trap back into the water and turned to face her. “What do you think, Swan? Perhaps a fancy dinner date?”

They hadn't had one of those, a serious truly  _romantic_ date. Everything so far had been pretty casual. She was going to refuse on instinct, but then she caught longing in Killian's blue eyes. She'd seen it there before, but had attributed it to the deep attraction they shared. But this was different.  _More_ . He was trying to really  _date_ her, to sweep her off her feet.

And she was pretty sure it was working.

“Sure,” she said finally. “I'd like that.”

He grinned and kissed her. “Then it's a date.” He looked her over; it was warm enough now that her jacket was gone, even though he'd forced her to put the life vest back on. “Now how about we see about getting you out of this.”

“Does that involve getting me out of _other_ things as well?”

Killian looked around, his jaw clenching when he saw a stray boat. “Give me five minutes.” He fired up the engine again, leading them north, the North Shore receding in Emma's vision. When it was only the  _tiniest_ speck, they stopped. The boat swayed gently in the water, Killian lowering the anchor. Emma stowed her things, snatching up the blanket Killian had brought.

“Always prepared, aren't you?” she teased, shaking it out and spreading it in the most open spot on the deck. It wasn't a large space, but they could make it work.

Killian caught her by the hand, kissing her palm. “I was in no way prepared for  _you_ , lass.” Emma shivered despite the warm sun, Killian's lips brushing butterfly kisses to her palm, her wrist. He moved higher up her arm, eyes locked with hers. His other hand unstrapped her life vest, dropping it to the deck. Her heart sped up; she licked her lips, he was very close to her now.

Emma moved first, unable to see those eyes boring into hers, kissing him hard. She pulled impatiently at his life vest, getting it off so she could work on his shirt. “Swan, slow down,” he murmured, fingers teasing her stomach. “We've got all the time in the world.”

Emma knew he was right; she slowed her hands, going back to kissing him. He was an amazing kisser, understanding instinctively what she wanted, a deep bruising kiss, or a tender give and take or long slow kisses that threatened to steal her sanity. He knew what she wanted before she did, kissing her, touching her, like it was what he'd been put on the earth to do.

Somehow they made their way to the deck, only partially cushioned by the blanket. Killian had her tank and shorts off in a blink, revealing the dark blue bikini she was wearing. It was similar to the red, scraps of cloth put together with ties. His eyes darkened to a similar color and Emma realized that was why she'd bought it. It was the same color as his eyes when he looked like he wanted to  _devour_ her.

God, she loved that look.

“You _are_ trying to torment me,” he said quietly, hands sliding over the bare skin of her stomach. “Wearing practically _nothing_ but the tiniest _scrap_.” He lowered his head, licking the swell of her breast. “Do you know how much I wanted you the other day? At the beach? Dressed like this. Smearing lotion all over this delectable skin.”

His voice dropped as he spoke, getting rougher, his accent thicker. Emma shivered, that tone doing wicked and terrible things to her. She'd seen him needy before, on the edge, but this was different. Darker somehow. There was an authority to his voice that she'd never heard before.

“Maybe I did it on _purpose_ ,” she replied, back arching. _“Captain.”_

Killian inhaled sharply, locking his dark lust filled gaze with hers. “Did you now? If I didn't know better, I'd think you _wanted_ to be fucked out where anyone could see us.” His hand slid over her bikini clad cleft, stroking her through the fabric. “And now look where we are.”

Emma rolled her hips into his touch, the friction not nearly enough. “I told you,” she breathed, bringing his other hand up to her lips and sucking on the pads of his fingers. “I can't stop thinking about you, wanting you to touch me.”

Killian pulled his hands away long enough to shove down his trunks, his cock bobbing against his stomach. Emma licked her lips, wondering what he would do to her, her mind racing with possibilities.

“What do you imagine, love?” His hand resumed stroking her, sliding up and down her covered slit, her legs falling open of their own accord.

She had to tear her eyes away from his cock. “All over,” she said, admiring her own brazenness. Dirty talk wasn't her forte, but she could see how much it turned him on. “I've imagined us all over, in the shower, bent over my couch, the kitchen.” Killian's fingers slid under the edge of her bikini and she moaned.

“Anywhere else?”

“That day at the beach. I wanted you to take me in the water.”

Killian cursed, jerking on the ties to her bikini. The scrap fell away, tossed over his shoulder. “Don't move,” he ordered, reaching for his discarded backpack. Emma hear the rip of the foil and bit her lip, thankful he wasn't going to keep her waiting any longer.

His arms curled under her knees, yanking her to him, her legs resting on his thighs. He pulled her up against his chest, her sopping core grinding into his hard cock. Killian kissed her deeply, Emma clinging to his neck, his nimble hands removing her last scrap of clothing. “Like this?” he growled, lifting her hips and impaling her. Emma moaned loudly, feeling full at last.

“Answer me, Swan.”

“ _Fuck_. Yes!” She circled her hips, knowing he liked that, wanting to feel every inch of him.

He let her set the pace, rocking in his lap, his own hips chasing hers every time she rose. “Christ, you're so tight. Wet and hot, so hot for me, lass.” He cradled her ass, squeezing her cheeks as she rode him, mouth licking a path down to her bouncing breasts, capturing a hard peak. Emma cried out, her core clenching as another wave of desire rolled through her. Killian grunted, their rhythm faltering. “Fuck, do that again. Feels so bloody good.”

Emma squeezed her inner muscles on every downward thrust, pleased when she saw his eyes roll back in his head. The next thing she knew she was on her back, Killian pounding into her like mad, one leg over his shoulder. His eyes were black, every muscle straining as he took her, his pelvis hitting her clit over and over.

“Mine,” he growled into her ear. Emma shivered hard, his possessive tone unexpected, but not unwelcome.

“Yes,” she mewled, clawing at his back. “Oh god, _fuck_.” Her orgasm slammed into her so hard she nearly blacked out, her vision swimming, unintelligible sounds tumbling from her lips. Killian followed a heartbeat later, still pumping into her, drawing out her pleasure until she couldn't breathe. When he rolled off her, it hurt, her leg falling to the deck with a soft thump. Dull pain mixed with her lingering high as her heel throbbed.

“Sorry, sorry,” Killian muttered softly, drawing her into his chest. He kissed her sweaty brow tenderly, still panting.

“It's...ow...okay,” she mumbled, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She didn't expect him to even hear her over the sound of the waves lapping against the boat.

Killian's low laugh rumbled his chest and Emma smiled. “I'll carry you around for a week in penance,” he said, hugging her.

“You didn't hurt me, dummy.”

“God, it's so easy to lose my head with you, lass.”

“I know what you mean.” She couldn't seem to control herself around him either. She just _wanted_ all the time.

“Well, we haven't gotten arrested for public indecency yet, so perhaps we're more in control than we think.”

Emma laughed. “Yeah, maybe.”

They didn't stay like that long; the sun was high in the sky now, they needed to take care of some necessities like food and sunscreen. Emma put her shorts on over her bikini bottoms, hoping to avoid any further temptations until later.

As it turned out, they did get to see some dolphins and sea turtles. Killian even raised the sail (it was a bit tatty, but Emma wisely didn't say anything) and gave her a turn at the wheel. She had to admit it was kind of thrilling to be guiding the vessel by herself, almost as if she could feel the subtle power of the ocean, connected to it.

They anchored again at dusk, Killian saying something about watching the moonrise. They set up a pile of cushions—where they came from Emma had no idea, but they smelled like Killian—in the bow, settling in with the wraps Killian had made for dinner.

“You can see much better out here,” he informed her, tucking her into his side. “No artificial light.”

“We could see a lot before. More than New York anyway.”

“This is better, trust me. Seeing the moon reflected on the water? Nothing's better than that.”

Emma smirked. “Nothing, huh?”

Killian laughed. “Almost nothing, lass, almost nothing.” He hugged her a little tighter and she sighed. It felt like they were the only two people in the world; there was no angry mother waiting for her at home, no self doubt. It felt she was herself for the first time—maybe ever—and Emma liked what she saw. Deep down, she knew that was in large part due to the man next to her.

Stargazing, as pretty as it was, could only hold her attention for so long. The sway of the boat made her drowsy; combine that with Killian's solid warmth and she was out like a light.

So she was pretty damn pissed when a cold soaking rain woke her up.

“Really?” she grumbled, blinking against the unwelcome wetness. “What the hell?”

“Best get down below, Emma.” Killian's voice was serious, none of his usual teasing. That automatically put her on the alert. The wind was picking up too, coming from...she had _no_ idea because they were on the water. There was a crack of thunder and she flinched.

“Killian?”

“Go, love. I'll be along shortly; I just have to tie a few things down.”

Emma gathered an armful of blankets and cushions, picking her way to the ladder that led below. More thunder boomed; she wondered where the storm had come from. Was it supposed to rain? She'd checked the weather; it was supposed to be nice. Emma tossed the wet things into a corner and dug for her bag; she needed some clean dry clothes. Emma was pulling Killian's UH tank over her head when she heard a loud clank, almost instantly followed by a thump.

A  _heavy_ thump, like a body.

_Killian._

Ignoring the rain, Emma dashed up the ladder again, looking around for him. “Killian?  _Killian?_ ”

There was scuffling over to her left. “I'm alright, just slipped is all.” Emma could just make out his outline in the dark; he was on his hands and knees, tying off one of the ropes to the rail. He made his way over to her; he swayed, but Emma couldn't tell if it was him or boat. They weren't rocking  _too_ much, despite the brisk winds.

Emma helped him awkwardly down the ladder, wincing when she saw his face. “You've got blood running down your chin,” she admonished. “Go sit, I'll get you cleaned up.”

“Honestly, I'm fine.”

“Don't try to pull that macho shit with me, Killian Jones. _Sit._ ” He did as she asked, pulling his soaked shirt over his head. When Emma returned with the first aid kit, he was all smiles again. “What's so funny?”

“You get to play nurse again, love.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Don't remind me. What happened?” She wiped at the blood carefully; now that he was out of the rain it was matting in his scruff.

“I told you. I slipped. The deck's bloody soaked, I lost my footing in the lighting. Banged my head on the rail.”

“Does it hurt?” What were the symptoms of a concussion?

“Like a bitch, but I'll live.” Emma looked carefully into his eyes; he _seemed_ fine, he was lucid, knew who she was.

Killian frowned at her, taking her hands in his. “Emma, love, I'm  _fine_ . I swear.” Her smile flickered, not reaching her eyes. She bent down to kiss him; he responded eagerly, molding his mouth to hers, chasing away the lingering chill. “Did I pass?” he asked, kissing her nose.

“Yeah.” She turned her attention back to his cut, cleaning it with alcohol (Killian whined, the big baby), and applying some Neosporin before covering it with a Band Aid. After that she let him get changed; they needed to make another place to sleep until morning. The only “bed” was narrow with a thin, barely there mattress.

The storm was gone in another hour, a sea squall, Killian called it. “It's my fault,” he declared, squeezing with her into the bed. They lay on their sides, Killian spooning her from behind. “I brought us too far from shore.”

“It's okay, it's just rain.” She'd lived with sudden thundershowers in New York, dashing from a limo to her penthouse or vice versa. “I'm just glad you're okay.” She couldn't get that dull thump out of her head; what he'd been hurt worse?

“I have a beautiful lass to look after me,” he teased, nuzzling her neck. She heard him yawn, his hand sliding underneath her shirt, the way it did when they slept like this.

Emma remained awake for a long time, thinking. That sinking terrible feeling she'd had in the split second she thought he was hurt. That feeling only came from only one place. She'd grown so comfortable with him, with  _them_ ...it hit her like an oncoming train.

She was in love with him. In the big scary way.

She was so beyond screwed.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Killian snapped his laptop shut, wondering what _else_ could go wrong this week.

First, his date with Emma—the one he'd been looking forward to for nearly two weeks—got rained out. After the storm, he brought them back early, the  _Jolly_ 's sail ripped in the winds, along with other minor shit that was going to need repaired. He had no idea where he was getting the money for  _that._ Then, Emma insisted he go to the emergency room to get checked out, even though it was simply a bump on the head. Although, after what he'd told her about Liam's accident, he couldn't truly blame her for being worried. Honestly, it was really sweet.

But it was another thing he was going to have to pay for since all he had was the shitty university insurance. He didn't tell Emma any of this though, because it was his problem. He'd find a way to deal with it himself. He had a little of the settlement from Liam's accident left—he'd used most of it to buy the  _Jolly_ in the first place—so perhaps he wasn't entirely screwed.

Finally, his adviser wanted an update on his thesis. Killian had been neglecting it—revealing his past to Emma, fighting with Will, and the storm had all taken up most of his precious time—and now he needed to have a draft of at least two chapters before his mid summer meeting with Dr. Teach in a week and a half. For that, he'd need a couple days off to go down to Honolulu.

He was just going to have to explain things to Emma. Killian was sure she would understand, even if she was disappointed. He'd make it up to her. Maybe she could come with him to the city. Once he was finished with his professor, he'd have some free time. Maybe they could have that fancy date they talked about. Emma in a stunning gown,  _that_ was definitely something to look forward to.

But first, he wanted to go check on the  _Jolly._ He needed to evaluate the damage and see what needed to be fixed immediately and what could wait. If he could spread things out, then it would be easier on his wallet.

He was already working as many hours as Robin would allow him.

Killian snatched up his keys and headed down to his Jeep. As he climbed in his phone rang. It was Emma, which instantly brought a smile to his face. “Hello, love.”

“Hey. Is this a bad time?”

“I was just heading down to the marina. Do you need me?” It was scary just how quickly he would drop everything if she needed him.

Emma chuckled. “Actually, that's what I was calling about. I was going to ask you to meet me there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. See you in a half hour?”

“Should I swing by and get you?”

“No, I've got something to do first. I'll be there soon though.”

Killian's brow crinkled with curiosity. What was she up to? Surprises were usually  _his_ forte. “Okay. See you later.”

He hadn't seen much of her since their date. Granted, he'd been busy, but she seemed....distant somehow? Like she was deep in thought. They still spoke every day, but she'd only come by for dinner once that week. Even then, she wasn't her usual self. And he caught her looking at him oddly when she thought he wasn't looking. He missed her. It was taking him longer to fall asleep these days; he'd become accustomed to having her in his bed, secure in his arms.

Killian shook his head and backed into the street. He took his shortcut to the docks, parking in his usual spot. He waved to a few people as he headed for the  _Jolly_ 's slip, his mind still on Emma. Something was going on, he could feel it.

He was so distracted, he almost walked right past his boat. Not that anyone could blame him because for a moment, he wasn't sure it  _was_ his boat. Killian knew the  _Jolly_ like the back of his hand, but this wasn't the  _Jolly._ At least not as he'd left her a few days ago. She gleamed in the sun, the metal and fiberglass bright and polished. There was fresh paint. Gingerly, Killian climbed aboard, taking off his sunglasses for a closer look. The spot where he'd slipped was cleaned of blood, the railing completely replaced. He looked up, sure enough the ripped and tattered sail was gone, a clean white one in its place. Every loose fitting, every rope, all brand new. He ducked below; the cabin was swept clean, things stowed away, the bed made. At least his blankets and cushions were still there.

It hardly seemed like his boat any more; everything as bright and new as day he'd bought her.

There was only one person Killian knew with the money to do something like this, especially at such short notice.

_Emma._

Almost as if on cue, he heard her footsteps on the deck above. She descended the ladder, a bottle of champagne in her hand. She looked cute in a black and white striped crop top and black pleated shorts, which exposed her midriff enticingly. It was a testament to his swirling emotions that his first instinct wasn't to strip her naked and have his way with her.

“Oh. You're here already,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

Killian took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. “Aye. This is...something, lass.”

“I was going to surprise you, but I guess that's not gonna happen.” Still she smiled. “Do you like it?”

Killian looked around the room, at the place that was  _his_ but no longer  _felt_ like his. “Honestly?”

Emma frowned. “Well, yeah.”

“I don't know.” He should be relieved that he didn't have the burden of fixing the _Jolly_ , but for some reason, he wasn't. The _Jolly_ was his; the one thing he'd allowed himself after Liam's death. He thought he was honoring his brother's wish; it allowed him to do the work he loved, out on the ocean. It was in an odd way the last connection he had to Liam and now it felt like that was severed.

Emma toyed with the champagne bottle nervously. “Is there something you don't like? Because I can call Marco and we can fix whatever it is.”

He didn't know who this Marco person was, but he didn't want him anywhere near his boat again. “No, no. It's not that.”

“Then what? Because I'm confused.”

Killian glanced at her, then started to pace. He was being irrational; he knew that. But he couldn't make it stop. “Lass, it's... _too_ much. I didn't ask you to do this.”

“Well, I know that. But I wanted to. Can't I give my boyfriend a gift?”

“A gift?” Killian laughed hollowly. “Lass, this isn't a gift. Do you know how much this _cost?_ ” He looked at her, blonde curls, fashionable clothes. He struck him again just how far out of his league she was. “No, of course you don't. Did you even _ask?”_

“Why does it _matter_? I wanted to do something nice for you!” She was getting angry now, thrown by his reaction.

“Nice is bringing me pizza! Not completely refurbishing my bloody boat! Is this the _Jolly_ or did you just junk her and buy me a new one?”

“I would _never_ do that! I know what this means to you!” She slammed the bottle on the table, hard, her face flushed with anger. If he wasn't so angry himself, he'd think it was fetching.

“Do you? Do you really?” Killian picked up one of the pillows from the bed; it had his name embroidered across the front. His mother had made it before she passed. “You've never had to work, Emma! Never wondered where your next meal was coming from! Never lost the person closest to you in the world and spent your every waking minute trying to fulfill a promise! This bloody boat is all I have left of him!”

“And I what? Ruined it? Tell me what you really think, Killian.” There were tears stinging her eyes, as much as she tried to hide it.

He threw the pillow down. “You can't just throw money at every problem, Emma! It doesn't fix anything!”

“What would you have me do? Watch you struggle, work until you can barely stand up? I thought we were a team, Killian! But apparently I'm nothing more than a spoiled rich girl to you!”

He glared. “Perhaps Will was right. Maybe we are too different.”

Emma smacked him across the face. Hard. “If you're gonna take advice from  _that_ guy, then you deserve to be unhappy and alone. Fuck you.” With that, she turned and climbed the ladder, gone before Killian could stop her.

As he held his stinging cheek, Killian realized what a  _colossal_ mistake he'd made. His anger melted away as he thought about the awful things he'd said. He looked around, feeling more wretched by the second. Sticking out under one of the pillows was a card. Killian picked it up, his hand trembling. He ripped it open and read with a sinking heart.

_Killian,_

_There's something I've been thinking about these last few days, something I want to tell you. But since I suck at words, I thought I'd show you instead._

_I hope this refurbishment of the Jolly is up to scratch; I stayed here every minute, watching them work. I wanted it to be perfect, since I know what she means to you. Elsa thinks I'm crazy, but I feel like I've become a real person since I met you. You've shown me so much; I can't thank you enough. I took the liberty of adding a swan pillow to the pile, so you'd be reminded of me, even when we're apart. I hope you don't mind._

_I can't wait to see your face. I hope you like it._

_Love, Emma_

Killian looked over at the pile of pillows and cushions; sure enough, in the back lay the swan. He picked it up gently, lifting it to his nose and inhaling. It smelled faintly of her. Christ, he was the biggest ass in the entire world. Here she was, trying to do something nice for him, to show him that she cared, and he  _shat_ all over it like a petulant child.

He let his pride color his judgment, completely and utterly fucking up.

Killian looked down at the card again.  _Love, Emma_ . Could that mean what he thought it meant? Did she love him? If she did, surely he'd killed that.

“You really are the worst, Jones,” he said out loud. He suspected it was fruitless, but he pulled out his phone, dialing her number. It rang and rang and rang. When it switched to voice mail, he left her message, but he didn't expect her to get it. She'd probably delete it without listening to it. It was no better than he deserved.

Feeling worse than he had in years, Killian chucked aside his phone and reached for the abandoned champagne bottle. He popped the cork, chugging it straight from the bottle, almost choking. Not that he cared. Right now, all he wanted to do was get good and  _drunk._

* * *

Emma slammed the car door shut, blinking her eyes rapidly. She wasn't going to cry. She  _wasn't_ . She wouldn't let Killian get to her. She heard her phone ringing, but she ignored it, shutting it off for good measure. She didn't want to talk to anyone.

Blindly, she started the car and drove back to her bungalow. She clutched the steering wheel tightly, biting her lip. A song came on the radio, one that reminded her of Killian. She shut it off with a vicious push of the button, taking out her anger on the innocent radio.

She had to stay angry. It was the only thing that was holding her together.

When she got home, she changed her clothes, intending to go out for a run. That always cleared her head. She got a mile down the trail when she saw a happy couple strolling along, not a care in the world. Emma tried to ignore it, ignore  _them_ , but all she could see was she and Killian down at the beach. On that swing. Swimming. Sailing on his boat. Why did she feel like this?

Why did she have to go and fall in love with him?

A summer fling. That's all this was supposed to be. No strings, no feelings. Just someone to pass the time with, someone who seemed to like her. He made her feel good.

Emma's feet pounded the pavement, picking up her pace, sweat running down her body. It was really the wrong time of day for running, but she didn't know what else to do with herself.

She wouldn't think about Killian's gorgeous blue eyes or the way his dimples flashed when he was happy. Or the way he held her. The way her lips tingled when he kissed her. The way he listened to her and built her up. The way he would hold her when they were in bed together.

She started to slow, her lip trembling. How could he say those things? Did he really think she was a spoiled brat? Did he really think she fixed the  _Jolly_ to make him beholden to her? She knew it was a big project, but she also knew there was no way he could have done it by himself. It didn't seem like a big deal at the time.

She just wanted to make him happy.

Emma's pace crumbled completely, as a sob wracked her body. She collapsed onto a stump on the side of the trail, her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she cried; it felt like she'd been punched. Like someone had ripped a hole in her chest, leaving her bleeding.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed there; it was long after her tears were spent. Slowly, she got up and walked back to her bungalow. She no longer had the energy to run. She didn't know what she should do. Should she stay? Should she go home? If she went home, could she continue her project? God, she'd been looking forward to showing her proposal to Killian, to see what he thought. He'd have been so excited.

At least she thought he would. Now she wasn't so sure.

God, this whole trip was a mistake. Who had she been kidding anyway?

No, she wasn't going to let her personal life get in the way of this. Emma wasn't a quitter. She would see this thing through to the end, win or lose.

She got home, deciding to shower. Surely, that would make her feel better. At the very least, it would get the sweat and grime off her skin. After, she reached for Killian's UH shirt without thinking, but she tossed it aside. She couldn't look at anything that reminded her of him right now. Instead, she pulled on her NYU t-shirt and an old pair of boxers, none of which had bad associations.

Emma had just fired up her laptop when there was a knock on her door. Frowning, she went to answer it.  _Please don't be Killian._ She wasn't sure she could face him right now. She needed some time to sort through things.

“Elsa?”

Elsa whipped off her sunglasses, smiling broadly. “Surprise!” Her smile dropped almost instantly, her ice blue eyes worried. “Emma? What's wrong?”

Emma stepped back, allowing her friend inside. “Nothing,” she lied.

Elsa tutted. “Don't you be evasive with me, Emma Nolan.” She wheeled her bag into the room, then crossed her arms. “Something's wrong. I can see it in your eyes. I didn't even expect you to be here.”

“Why are you here, Elsa?” Emma headed for the couch, still trying to evade her friend's questions. She couldn't be sure she wouldn't break down again and she was stronger than that, damn it.

Elsa sat next to her, still looking concerned. “You called me  _freaked_ out on Sunday, remember? Something about Killian getting knocked out on his boat?”

Emma chewed on her lip. Honestly, she'd forgotten. She was so into making arrangements to fix the  _Jolly_ that she'd forgotten the late night call to her friend from the emergency room. “He's...he's fine. You didn't have to come.”

Elsa raised a credulous brow. “Really? Because from where I'm sitting it looks like I did. What happened? Is it Killian?”

Emma sighed, knowing Elsa wouldn't give up until she spilled. She was annoying that way. “We had a fight.”

“Oh Emma. I'm so sorry.” Wordlessly, Elsa gathered Emma in her arms and hugged her tight. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Emma sniffed, but that was all. “Not right now.”

“Do you want to eat ice cream and watch cheesy 80s movies?”

And that was why Elsa was her friend. She didn't push her to share before she was ready. And she knew exactly how to make Emma feel better. “Sure. I'll get the Rocky Road, you find something on the pay per view.”

She was halfway to the fridge before she realized that Rocky Road was what Killian had bought her on their first date. Thankfully, she had some double chocolate fudge instead.

They spent the rest of the afternoon and evening like that. They watched  _Footloose_ ,  _Top Gun, The Breakfast Club,_ every Indian Jones movie except the dumb one. Light on the romance, more comedy and action, which Emma appreciated. When the ice cream ran out, Emma made them lasagna for dinner. She was getting quite decent at cooking now; Elsa declared it a success. But Emma could see her friend fading, the jetlag getting to her.

“Why don't you sleep, Elsa? I'll be fine, I swear.”

Elsa yawned. “Not until you tell me what happened. I can tell you all my stories tomorrow.”

“You have stories?”

“How do you think I got here?”

“Kristoff?” Emma guessed.

Elsa laughed tiredly. “He's really quite resourceful. Anna's lucky.” There was a wistfulness in her voice again. Despite her own romantic troubles, Emma wished there was something she could do for her.

Emma sipped at her hot chocolate. She loved it, but had no reason to indulge since coming to the island. Not when it was warm every day. But the familiar scent comforted her. “I wanted to surprise him,” she began. “We went out on his boat last weekend and it was...” She looked up at Elsa. “It was  _good_ , we were  _good._ But there was a storm and Killian hit his head.”

“Hence the emergency room?”

Emma nodded. “I mean, he's  _fine._ But I had to be sure.” She didn't get into Liam's accident, as that wasn't her story to tell. But she just wanted to make sure he was okay. It hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time, but looking back at it, she hadn't really considered the consequences. God, did he even  _have_ insurance? Emma never thought about things like that.

“Is that why you had a fight?”

Emma shook her head. “No, that was later. Anyway, his boat...Elsa, he named it the  _Jolly Roger_ .”

Elsa chuckled. “Really? That's...kind of adorable actually.”

“He really loves Peter Pan. Like the original story. He loaned me his copy!” Emma put down her mug and ran to get it. It was on her nightstand. “See?”

Elsa turned the book over in her hand; it was dog eared in several places, the cover worn. “It reminds me of my copy of  _Pride and Prejudice._ ”

Emma smiled in spite of herself. “We really need to get you two in the same room.” If she ever saw him again, that is. She didn't know this is was just a fight, or if they really had something irreconcilable. As she got some space, she couldn't help but hope for the former.

“I take it you didn't fight about a book.”

Emma sighed. “No. I, uh, may have refurbished his boat without asking him.”

“Why would he be upset about that?”

“That's what I said!” Then she frowned. “I think...he's used to taking care of himself. His mother's dead. His dad's who knows where. Killian's hasn't seen him since he was a kid. And his brother...they were close. Like really close. But he died, several years ago.”

“So he's all alone?” Elsa's eyes shone with sympathy; like Emma, she had a family that loved her, even if they didn't quite understand her.

“Yeah.”

“You said he put himself through school too.” Elsa looked thoughtful. “Do you think...you might have hurt his feelings without meaning to?”

“I don't know. Maybe. I swear, I only wanted to do something nice! He means a lot to me.”

“Emma, you're not a grand gesture person. That's...a pretty big gesture.”

Emma groaned. “I know. But I was hoping I wouldn't have to say it.”

“Say what?” Then Elsa's eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh. _Oh._ I knew you cared about him, but Emma...are you sure?”

“That I fell for the guy I spilled coffee on?” Emma laughed dryly. “It seems so. Explains why I feel like shit right now.”

“Do you think he loves you?” Elsa asked gently.

Emma bit her lips. “Will said he did, but now...I don't know. He was pretty angry.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, until you do, you can show me around this place. I've been kinda jealous of you in this beautiful place all by yourself.”

* * *

* * *

“You're late,” Robin called, as Killian pulled into his friend's driveway. “Again.”

“At least he showed up this time,” Will interjected, lifting Roland up and spinning him around to peals of laughter.

“Sod off, both of you.” Killian slammed his door shut, ignoring the pounding in his head. He woke up hungover every morning since Wednesday, drinking his disgusting concoction and going to work. More like a zombie than a man. He just couldn't bring himself to do anything, running his last conversation with Emma over and over in his head. He called her every day, hoping she would relent and let him explain. Apologize. Grovel. Whatever it took. He didn't care.

“What crawled up yer pompous arse and died?” Will asked.

“Will,” Robin admonished. “Language. And lay off. He and Emma had a fight.”

“That was like three days ago. Haven't they kissed and made up yet?”

Killian glared at his friend. “Can't do that if she won't answer my calls. Hell, she's probably gone by now.”

“She's not,” Robin informed him, ushering Roland inside. “I checked the register yesterday.”

“ _You_ broke the rules, Locksley?” Will exclaimed. “I'm impressed.”

“Yeah, well, some of us actually try and be there for our friends.” Robin ushered them inside; England was having another friendly. It wasn't what Killian wanted to be doing, but it was better than hanging around his apartment, trying to work on his thesis when he was three sheets to the wind.

Robin passed around some beers then glanced at Roland. “Let me put him down, then I'll turn on the match.”

The beer was bitter going down; Killian had been drinking a lot of rum of late. None of it actually made him feel better, but it numbed the pain a little. But Emma was still on the island. She hadn't left. So that must mean he had a chance, right? A chance to make it right.

“I know what yer thinkin', mate,” Will said seriously. “Don't go there.”

Killian glared. “You've made your opinion on Emma very clear,  _mate_ ,” he spat. “I'm not in the mood.” He still couldn't believe he'd thrown Will's taunt back in Emma's face. That was the thing he couldn't forgive himself for. Killian didn't care about any of that, their backgrounds, her money. He just wanted her. Damn his pride.

Liam would be ashamed of the way he acted. Killian was ashamed. But how to get her to talk to him?

Robin came back, joining Killian on the couch and switching on the match. “Don't let Will get you down, Killian. This will blow over, you'll see.”

“How do you know?”

Robin gave him a rueful smile. “Because that's what you do when you love each other. Marian...she would get so  _angry_ at me. For silly things. And we'd fight. Scream, yell. She even threw a plate at me once.” Robin pointed at the scar on his elbow. “That's what it's about though. Working through all those silly things because you just can't bear the idea of not waking up next to the person you love.”

“I don't even know why I was angry,” Killian admitted. “I mean, I know _why_ but it was so idiotic. Instead of grateful I was an asshole and she didn't deserve it.” Especially since she still didn't know how they truly met.

“Liam's still a sore spot for you,” Robin pointed out. “Look at how quickly you got angry at me.”

Killian put his head in his hands, not bothering to watch the match. “Christ, I'm such an arse. I don't deserve her.”

“Let her be the judge of that. She sounds like a smart girl. You won't know until you try.”

“She won't answer my calls.”

“Then maybe you should get your sorry arse over there. And be prepared to grovel. A lot.” Robin looked Killian up and down. “But perhaps you better sober up first. And shower. You smell like a brewery.”

“Thanks a lot, mate.”

“I'm here to help.”

He knew Robin was right.  _He_ was the one who monumentally fucked up, only he could make it right. Or at least try to. He wouldn't blame Emma in the least if she slammed the door in his face. After he sobered up, he went home and took a long cleansing shower. He let the scalding hot water wash away all the grime and odor he'd acquired over the last few days, feeling better physically when he got out. His emotions were another story, still mentally flagellating himself for his temper.

Liam had always said his hot head would get him in trouble.

Killian managed to find some clean clothes, dressing quickly. It was getting late; he hoped she wasn't in bed yet. There was no traffic on the way to her place, but Killian drummed on the steering wheel anyway, his nerves getting to him. Emma meant so much to him; he didn't know what he'd do if she didn't give him another chance.

It took all of his courage to march up to her door—the front door and not that back one he normally used—and knock.

The person who opened the door wasn't Emma.

“May I help you?” The woman was about Emma's age with white blonde hair and ice blue eyes.

Killian scratched behind his ear. “Um, is Emma Nolan still staying here?” Surely, Robin wasn't jerking him around.

The blonde nodded, then her eyes widened.  _“Oh._ You must be Killian.”

“Aye, I am. And you are...?”

“Oh sorry. I'm Elsa Arendelle.”

So this was the famous Elsa. She was pretty in a haughty kind of way. But she seemed gentle and kind. “Is she here?” He hoped he didn't sound desperate, but he kind of was.

Elsa gave him a sympathetic smile. “She is. But...just stay here, okay? It's been a rough couple of days...” Elsa looked him over. “Which seems to be going around.”

The idea of her hurting because of him lacerated his heart. But he heeded Elsa's warning. “Aye.” All he could do was wait.

He didn't have to wait long, but it was Emma and not Elsa who appeared at the door. Her blonde hair was straight and flat, without her usual curls or waves. She was dressed simply in an off the shoulder baggy shirt and shorts with no make up. He could see the circles under her green yes. They were a little dull yet wary. “Hi.”

“Hello, lass.”

“Elsa said you wanted to talk?”

It wasn't precisely what he'd said, but bless Elsa for giving him a crumb to build on. “Aye. I came to explain and...apologize. If you'll let me.”

Her fingers tightened on the door, but she nodded. “Okay.” She stepped back so he could enter and he stood in the small foyer nervously, wondering what to do next. Everything with Emma had been so easy up until now; he had no idea how to proceed.

Elsa stood on the edge of the living room, watching them warily. “It's okay, Elsa,” Emma said. “I got this.”

“I'll leave you two alone. I'll go...take a walk.”

When the door closed behind her, the silence was deafening. Killian knew he was going to have to break it. “She seems nice,” he said, somewhat lamely.

Emma sat on the couch, nodding for Killian to do the same. He left a space between them; it felt bigger than the bleeding Grand Canyon. “She arrived right after we....” Emma gestured inarticulately, not wanting to actually sat the word “fought.”

“I tried to call you,” Killian said. “Over and over. Almost as soon as you left, I knew I messed up.”

“I turned my phone off,” Emma explained. “I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.”

“Understandable.” He fumbled with his hands, not knowing what to do with them. He was so used to touching her, but he knew that he couldn't. Not right now. He had to say what he came to say. “I am so, _so_ sorry, Emma. I had no right to get angry at you. I was...too proud to be grateful, or to just accept your amazing gift in the spirit it was given. And...I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness, even though I don't deserve it.”

Emma inhaled slowly, taking in his words. “I never meant to imply...anything, Killian,” she said finally.

“Emma, you did _nothing_ wrong. I'm the asshole here. _I_ messed up. And I hate myself for it.” He rubbed his face with his hand, sighing heavily. “I bought the _Jolly_ with the money from Liam's accident settlement. So in an odd way, I think of her as _his_ rather than mine. I spent all week trying to figure out how I was going to fix her and I got there and she was...better than new. I overreacted. And there's no excuse for it. All I can say is that I'm sorry.”

Emma reached out, covering his hand with hers. It was like balm on his soul. “I didn't know. If I had, I would have asked you first.”

“I know.” He placed his other hand over hers. “I know we can't just...go back to how things were, but...do you think we could start over?”

She held his eyes for a long time, as if gauging his sincerity. Finally, her hand tightened in his and she nodded. “Would you kiss me?” she asked, her thumb rubbing his knuckles.

Killian sighed in relief and surged forward, capturing her lips with his. Emma responded instantly, opening for him, deepening the kiss. Killian cradled her cheek with his free hand, fingers threading into her hair. Her lips were warm and soft, tongue stroking his. It hit him full force just how much he missed her, how much he  _loved_ her. He wanted to tell her—desperately—but he didn't want it to be because they'd fought. When he told her, he didn't want any clouds hanging over their heads.

“I missed you,” Emma whispered against his lips. She was in his lap now, fingers massaging his scalp tenderly. “So much.”

Killian hugged her close, feeling awful again. “I'm sorry, love. I was such a bloody prat to you.” He raised her head. “It seems too late now, but... _thank you_ for what you did. The  _Jolly_ 's never looked better.”

“You're welcome.” She kissed him again, sweetly, far more forgiving than he deserved. “Actually, I've been thinking and there's something I should tell you too. I know it's late though.”

“I can stay. To talk.” Having her this close to him was doing terrible things to him, but he wanted to do this right this time. If she wanted to talk, then they would talk. He was just happy she was willing to forgive him.

Emma looked relieved, leaning into press another kiss to his lips. He was about to respond when the back door opened. They sprang apart, Emma settling in beside him, her cheeks flushed. Elsa nodded politely and told them she was going to bed.

“I guess we should talk, huh?” Emma said, still blushing.

Killian ran his hand through his hair. “Aye, we should.” If he truly wanted a fresh start, then he was going to have to tell her everything. _Everything._ And let the chips, as they say, fall where they may. “But ladies first.”

Emma sighed, looking nervous. “I haven't talked about this...in a long time. I've tried so hard to put it...put _him_...behind me.” She laughed hollowly. “Easier said than done when you all have the same friends.”

“Is this the mysterious ex?”

“Yeah. Neal. He wasn't my first or anything like that.” She couldn't meet his eyes. “But he was the first _real_ relationship I ever had. At least I thought it was real.” She clenched her fist, her face growing dark. “We all grew up together, ran in the same _privileged,”_ she spat the work like a curse, “circles. I thought I knew him and he said he liked me.”

Emma looked at him finally, scowling. “I don't even remember our first time. I was drunk. I didn't think anything of it though.” Killian's jaw twitched, appalled by what he was hearing. Not at Emma. But at Neal. What kind of man takes advantage like that? But he let her finish. “All the warning signs were there. He isolated me from my friends. Ordered my food when we went out. Probably some things I didn't even notice. It was so hard for me to see what he was doing because...”

“Because you loved him.”

“I thought I did. There wasn't an particular moment; I sort of realized step by step that I was living _his_ life and not _mine_. He laughed in my face when I told him that I wanted to work. He thought I was crazy.”

“You were a trophy and he wanted you to stay that way.”

Emma smirked ruefully. “Yeah. When I tried to end it, he wouldn't listen. Wouldn't leave me alone. Calling and calling, waiting downstairs when I left the penthouse. My mother finally convinced me to threaten him with a restraining order.”

“I'm so sorry, love.”

“I haven't said more than ten words to him in two years. We see each other at charity events, sometimes around town, but even that is more than I'd like.”

Hearing her story made him even more determined to tell her the truth. He didn't want there to be anymore secrets and hidden agendas. He was better than that. Certainty better than this Neal bloke, even if he was only a mechanic. He reached over and took her hand. “You are an extraordinary woman, Emma. Don't let anyone tell you differently.”

She smiled at him softly. “You sound like Elsa.”

“In our very brief acquaintance, I can tell she and I will be great friends. We have _you_ in common.” He grinned cheekily at her, hoping to make her smile. He'd missed her smile.

Emma rolled her eyes, but graced him with that brilliant smile. “Smooth talker. Did you have something else to tell me?”

Killian glanced away, steeling himself. He'd only just gotten her back; he hoped he wasn't ruining it. But she deserved the truth. “Um, do you remember the day you came to the island?”

Emma frowned. “Yeah, why?”

“The day you spilled coffee on me wasn't the first time we met.”

“It wasn't? What do you mean?” Her eyes were wary now, wondering where he was going with this.

Killian folded his hands in his lap. “Will was hungover. He asked me to fill in for him. He's a bellboy here. At the resort.”

It took her a minute to figure out what he was saying. She narrowed her eyes at him, then they widened in recognition. “The apple? That was _you?”_

Killian winced. “Aye.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“At first, I didn't think it mattered. I didn't...well, I didn't expect to like you so much, love. I knew I should stay away, but I couldn't. I've never met anyone quite like you, Emma.”

“Why would you need to stay away?”

“Because I work here, Swan. I'm a mechanic at _this_ resort and it's against company policy to _fraternize_ , shall we say, with the guests.”

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes falling closed. “So let me get this straight. The guy who dropped off my bags, who put _grease_ on them, was _you_. You pretending to be Will. And you didn't tell me because dating me could cost you your job?”

“In a nutshell, yes.”

Emma got up abruptly and stalked to the kitchen. Killian didn't try and stop her, knew it was a lot to take in. He just might have blown his shot; it was impossible to tell. He heard a glass thunk on the counter, the splash of alcohol. He waited on pins and needles, wondering what she would do. Would she throw him out? He couldn't really blame her if she did.

Emma came back, thrusting a glass into his hand. He raised a brow and knocked it back, the burn harsh down his throat. As soon as he swallowed, Emma _punched_ him in the shoulder. _Hard._ He gasped and grunted, shoulder throbbing.

“That was for thinking I would _care_ that you were _just_ a mechanic,” she said, sitting down next to him. “And for not telling me sooner.”

“My apologies?” His voice was thin, reedy, eyes watering. Damn, she could _hit_. But if that was the worst that happened to him, he would take it. Gladly.

“Anything _else_ I need to know?”

“Like my secret love child in Reading?”

Her eyes went wide, then she scowled. “I'm being serious, Killian.”

“I know, I know. A poor attempt at humor. I'm sorry. Again.”

“Why would you risk so much?”

It hurt, but he reached up and cupped her face. “I should think that was obvious, my love.” It was closest he'd come to saying _those_ words. He still wasn't sure she was ready to hear them. But he meant them. He'd risk all this for her and more. It took almost losing her to make his realize that he _couldn't_. Not ever. Unless she ordered him away. He was in this. For the long haul.

Emma ran his fingers lightly over his face, tracing every ridge and bump. “Who _are_ you?”

“Possibly crazy?” he teased.

She laughed. God, it was good to hear her laugh. “You said it, not me.”

“That just makes me self aware, darling.”

“Are we gonna be okay?”

“If you can forgive my _many_ transgressions and faults, Emma.” He was well aware that he was the reason they'd come to this. She'd done nothing wrong.

“I'm glad you told me. I'm still a little angry at you though.”

“You have every right to be. But I want to be with you. If you still want me.”

Emma pulled him in for a kiss, her lips sweet and firm on his. It was heaven. “You'll just have to find a way to make it up to me.”

Ignoring his still throbbing shoulder, he pulled her into his lap. “I'd start right now, but I don't think your friend would take kindly to being woken up.”

Emma giggled, settling back into his arms as if she'd never left. “Probably not. Will you stay though?”

“Aye, but I'll have to leave early. I have an early shift, then...oh bollocks, I really need to get some work done on my bloody thesis. I'm supposed to meet with my adviser next week. He wants an update.”

“Down in Honolulu?”

“Aye.” Killian kissed the top of her head. “Would you like to come with me? Perhaps we could have that dinner date. Have a first date all over again.”

“Only if you let me make the arrangements.”

He laughed. “Done.” He toyed with her fingers, threading them with his. He could feel the ache easing in his chest, hope that they would be alright settling there. “I don't care about the money, Emma. I never did. If I ever gave you that impression, I'm sorry.”

Emma laid her head on his chest. “That's one of the reasons I lo-like you so much. Because you see _me_. You always saw me.”

“That apple did give me a bit of pause though.”

“I was jetlagged. People don't care cash in New York, funny guy.” She looked up at him, her fingers brushing his chin. “I still can't believe I didn't recognize you.”

“The beard makes me look even more devilishly handsome, love. It's an easy mistake to make.”

“I do remember thinking you had a nice ass though.”

He smirked. “Did you now? Do tell.”

“I also thought you looked about eighteen.”

He pretended to look offended. “You wound me, Swan.”

“For the record, I prefer the scruff.”

“Duly noted.” They talked until Emma fell asleep in his arms. Quietly, he shut off the light and carried her to bed, ditching his own shoes and crawling in with her. She wrapped herself around him automatically, drawn to his warmth. He stayed up for a long time after that, just listening to her breathe.

He wouldn't screw up again. He'd make sure of it.

* * *

“What do you think about these?” Emma adjusted the screen so Elsa could see what she was holding.

Elsa scrutinized the earrings through the Skype connection. “Are you sure you want something so...I don't know, dangly?”

“What's wrong with dangly?”

Killian had dropped her off hours ago; she wouldn't see him again until their date. It had been a relatively quiet drive—for them anyway—it seemed they were both still feeling out this “fresh start” as Killian had dubbed it.

The ensuing week after their fight had been a series of awkward moments, brief text exchanges, late night phone calls. In some ways, it felt like they were learning each other all over again. And in a way, they were. Since Killian was busy working and putting together his presentation for his professor, they only really got to see each other when Emma managed to convince him to go out to lunch with she and Elsa. Elsa gave him the third degree—well, as much as someone as sweet and non-confrontational as her _can—_ and pronounced herself satisfied. Emma had actually gotten a bit of a kick out of it, watching him squirm under her best friend's glare.

Elsa's seal of approval only confirmed what Emma knew. That her decision to forgive him was the right one. When he showed up that night, she'd been so relieved to see him, even though she hid it at first. Similar scenarios had played out with Neal, and she'd learned her lesson the hard way. But not _once_ did Killian try to blame her and spin her words around until she didn't know which way was up. He came—Christ, he looked terrible, even though she could smell the fresh soap on him—and basically threw himself at her feet.

The revelation of their true meeting had thrown her; she honestly hadn't known whether to be _angry_ or _amused_ or _what._ Once she understood the gravity of what he was risking though, she couldn't stay mad at him. She had to let him _stew_ about it for a few minutes, throw in a little punch for his stupidity, but she cared too much about him to just let what they had _die._

Now they were here, trying to get back to some kind of normalcy. Killian had said they couldn't go back and he was right. Before they were fooling themselves into believing that all they had was a little fun and sex. Now things were serious. She was in love with him. She still hadn't said it. Neither had he, but she knew. She could see it in the dejected look in his blue eyes when he showed up at her door.

Their fight had eaten him up as much—if not _more—_ than it had her.

This date was supposed to be the beginning. She wanted to get that easy way they had about them back. She wanted to hear all the stories she'd missed because of his secret. She wanted to hold hands and flirt shamelessly and kiss until they couldn't breathe. She wanted _him,_ wanted to worship his body, and allow him to do the same, to feel those rough hands on her skin. Their connection had brought her to life and she _missed_ it.

Killian had given her free reign to their date and she planned to impress. She booked them a suite at the Halekulani right on the beach. With Killian working, Emma had used her free time to go dress shopping with Elsa, picking out a beautiful flirty dress, perfect for a swanky, sexy date. She took Killian's suit—he only had one—and had it dry cleaned and pressed, buying him a new tie (that went well with her dress). They'd made a deal, so he wasn't allowed to make a peep about how much money she was spending. She had more than she knew what to do with anyway.

Dinner and dancing at Tony's Italian restaurant—Elsa had giggled like _mad_ , declaring it very _Lady and the Tramp—_ hopefully followed by a night wrapped up together until they were exhausted.

Judging by the way Killian had eyed her on the drive down to the city, he missed her too.

They had until Monday afternoon, when Killian had to be back at work. Emma planned to make the most of it. Perhaps, she'd let Killian show her how to surf. You know, just for fun.

“Well,” Elsa was saying, “you did say that Killian was very...affectionate?” Elsa was already blushing. “Dangly earrings might impede him.”

“Elsa!” Emma hadn't gone into any _huge_ detail about her sex life, but Elsa had seen them together. At lunch, Killian had kept his hand on her leg almost the entire time, stealing kisses right there in front of of Elsa.

“Don't get me wrong, Killian's sweet,” Elsa said, grinning. “But he's really... _really_ into you, Emma. Don't bother denying it. I have eyes. You two are like a more sexually charged version of Anna and Kristoff.”

Emma cringed. “I hope that's a compliment? Sort of?”

Elsa's laugh sounded far away over the connection. “Seriously, Emma. I know I got here at a bad time, but you two are really great together. He clearly adores you. I know you can't see it, but when you're not looking, he just _stares_ like you hung the moon or something.”

Emma flushed. “He does not.”

“Yeah. He does. Just accept it, missy.”

“Ugh, fine. Are you gonna help me or what?” Secretly, she was pleased, but did the tried and true and hid it with sarcasm.

Elsa smiled. “Show me the other pair again and we'll see what we can do.”

Emma said goodbye an hour later, deciding to shower, then head down to the salon to get her hair done. She decided on a high ponytail with a twist, giving her golden hair some nice bounce to it. She got her make up done too, even though she was starting to fidget; she hated sitting there for hours on end in New York, getting ready for some function or other. But this was a romantic date with her boyfriend; she really wanted to knock his socks off.

Emma was slipping on her heels when her phone rang. “Hey you.”

“Tell me again, love, why I have to get ready for our date in the bloody hotel _bathroom?_ ”

“Because I want us to actually _leave_ the hotel, Killian.”

“Are you implying that I can't control myself, Swan?”

They hadn't been together since that day on his boat. That was _exactly_ what she was implying. “Your words, sailor.”

Killian laughed. “I'm sure the wait will be worth it,” he said, pitching his voice low. On purpose, the bastard. Emma shivered.

“I hope you weren't planning on sleeping.” Yeah, she missed this game with him.

“Certainly not, darling.”

She smiled even though he couldn't see her. “I'll be down soon.”

“I look forward to it.”

Emma gave herself one last once over in the mirror, then checked her clutch. She snapped it closed and flipped off the lights, heading for the elevator. Butterflies formed in her stomach, inexplicably. They'd been on dates before, what was the big deal?

The look on his face when he saw her, showed plainly what the big deal was. Killian was slightly slack jawed, blue eyes darkening as he perused her. If this was the look Elsa was talking about then...damn. His gaze warmed her all the way to her toes, bringing a blush to her cheeks. “Hi.”

“Evening, princess.”

She smirked, with a slight roll of her eyes. “You just won't give that up, huh?”

Killian stepped closer, taking her hand gently in his. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back. “Only stating a fact, love.”

She squeezed lightly on his fingers, then curled her arm around his. “Shall we?” She tried to ignore the way his suit jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, the way his hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck. All she wanted to do was run her fingers through it, tug on the strands. He smiled teasingly at her as they walked through the spacious lobby, almost as if he could read her thoughts.

Good grief, it was going to be a long night.

Killian helped her into the limo she hired, unable to resist running his hand lightly over her bare calf. Emma tried to look stern, but no sooner were they safely ensconced in the limo, than she was sliding her hands underneath his suit jacket, relishing his sharp intake of breath.

“Nice tie,” she murmured against his ear.

His hands slid over her waist. “It was a gift. From a very beautiful lass.”

“Hmm, she has good taste.”

His hand came up to caress the apple of her cheek. “Aye, one of the things I love about her.”

And there it was again, that thing he was saying without exactly saying it. Emma smiled shyly, pressing only the briefest kiss to his lips; she didn't want to ruin her make up just yet. She settled in next to him, fingers threaded with his. He pointed out some of the sights out the window, just making small talk as they headed deeper into the city.

“It's not New York, I'll grant you,” Killian was saying, “but I've become fond of it.”

“Is it much different from London?”

Killian laughed. “Oh lass, _much_ different. Took me a whole bloody year to learn to how pronounce most of the street names. I lived on campus for the first two years; I didn't know a soul.”

She cocked her head at him. It was hard for her to imagine just picking up and leaving home...seemingly forever. “Were you scared?”

“Bloody terrified. But I managed.”

They arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later; Killian handed her out after she spoke briefly to their driver. From the outside, the restaurant looked just like a little Italian bistro, but she knew it was seriously nice on the inside. A waiter guided them to a table toward the back corner; it was very romantic with two tall white candles and a single red rose on Emma's plate.

She looked up at Killian as he pulled out her chair. “I may have altered your plans, just a tiny bit,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. “I hope you don't mind.”

Emma lifted the rose to her nose and inhaled the sweet scent. “Thank you, Killian.” She smiled up at him, covering his hand still on her shoulder. She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, touched by his sweetness.

He nodded down at her, then moved around to the other side of the table. “This is a nice place. I don't think I've been here before.”

Emma scoffed. “I find _that_ hard to believe.”

“Just what are you implying, Swan?”

She looked over at him through her lashes. “Oh come on. Handsome guy like you? Never brought a date here?”

He actually blushed, his cheeks tinging pink. “Ah, I was much too busy studying, lass. I'm afraid you might have me confused with someone else.”

“Not _one?”_

“Love, I was a student, not a monk. I graduated in three years before starting my master's degree. Didn't leave much room for fun.”

“What changed?”

He shrugged. “Just met the right person, I suppose.”

It was her turn to blush. Their waiter arrived and they ordered some wine. Emma was surprised to hear him peruse the menu in near flawless Italian. “Wow, that's impressive. And I understood about half of it.”

“It was either Italian or Russian. I chose the former.”

“I chose French. I just liked how it sounded.”

“Ah, those pesky general education requirements?”

She laughed. “Something like that. I just wanted to be like my dad.”

“I believe I know what it's like to idolize a family member, lass.”

When their wine arrived, Emma held up her glass. “To fresh starts?”

He smiled. “Aye.” The glasses clinked and he winked at her, making her giggle. They were going to be okay.

Dinner was excellent, once Killian translated enough of the menu for her to decide what she wanted. During the salad course, Emma accidentally kicked him under the table, but that just led to a very discreet game of footsie as they ate their entrees; Killian ultimately gained the upper hand when he rediscovered the spot behind her knee that made her squirm. He massaged it gently, heat unfurling low in her belly.

“Killian...” she said warningly.

“What?”

“We're eating.”

“Perhaps I'm not hungry for food.”

The truth was she wasn't either, but there was one thing she wanted to do before they left. “I think I promised you a dance.”

“You did.” There was a grand piano on the other side of the restaurant, next to a small dance floor. There were only a handful of couples dancing, most of them in their own tiny world. When the song came to an end, Killian held out his hand. “Would you like to dance with me, Emma?”

“Yes.”

Her dress swished around her legs, just below the knee, the layers of the skirt rustling. She fell in love with this dress the moment she saw it. Pale blue, layered skirt, the bodice fitted, but sheer at top around her shoulders. There was an intricate floral pattern sewn into the bodice, just under the bust, set off by bow wrapped around her like a belt. It was far more her style than the dresses her mother would help her pick out, insisting than her “image” must be maintained.

“Hey,” Killian said softly. “You still with me, love?”

“Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking.”

Killian's hand was warm on her waist, sliding up to her lower back, pulling her just a bit closer. “About anything in particular?”

“My mother actually.”

His brows shot up in surprise. “Not exactly something a bloke like to hear when he's holding you, lass.”

Emma tightened her hand in his. “I was just thinking about how much she would disapprove of this dress.”

His eyes looked down, drinking her again. “I may not be an expert on women's fashions, but I think you look fantastic.” He leaned in closer to her ear. “And I can't wait to get you out of it.”

She smiled, allowing him to spin her around, causing the skirt to flair. “Who says I'll be able to wait that long?”

“You are an impatient one, sweetheart..” They danced two more songs, getting steadily closer as they moved. “I knew you'd be good at this.”

“All we're doing now is swaying,” she pointed out.

“Aye, but I get to hold you and that's all that really matters.” Emma buried her nose in the crook his shoulder, inhaling his cologne. He hardly every wore any, another sign that this night was different. After their dance, they finished off the bottle of the wine; Emma, as agreed upon, taking care of the bill.

As soon as they were outside, Killian pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his lips insistent, tasting faintly of wine. Emma sighed into his kiss, hands curling up around his collar. “I've been wanting to do that all day,” Killian said, a little breathless.

“Well, don't stop then,” she countered. There were a couple of valets standing around, but they discreetly looked away. Emma had called for their limo before they left the restaurant; they had time to kill before it arrived. Killian nudged them a little closer to one corner of the canopy before covering her mouth with his once more.

Emma slid her hand over his clothed chest, fingers toying with his tie. She loosened it a little as they kissed, arousal warming her, his hands caressing her through the fabric of her dress. By the time the limo got there, she tingled all over, her lips kiss swollen. Killian helped her into the limo once more, quickly shedding his suit jacket.

“Take the scenic route back, okay, mate?” he said to their driver. The man nodded curtly, pulling out into traffic. Emma's eyes narrowed in confusion until she saw him push the button that raised and locked the privacy window. “Oh my god.”

Killian trailed his hand up her bare arm, goosebumps rising in his wake. “Is this okay?” he asked, kissing her shoulder.

She nodded, a thrum of desire shooting down her spine. It seemed appropriate that they found themselves in another semi public setting. And she'd missed him so much. Emma pulled him in by his tie, kissing him hard, nipping lightly on his lip.

“You don't have to be careful,” she said, cradling his cheek. “I want _my_ Killian back.”

He looked taken aback for a moment, taking a deep breath and resting his forehead against hers. “I have missed you so bloody much, Emma.”

She nodded vigorously, squealing in delight when he pulled her bodily into his lap. Her dress tangled around her legs, getting creased surely, but she didn't care. His large hands cupped her ass through the material, Emma pressed closer to him, kissing him deeply, nails scratching at his scruff. Killian growled, low in his throat, hips rocking up into hers.

“What do you want, Emma?” he demanded, mouth hot on her neck. “I can't decide.”

Well, there were only so many options in the moving limo and she didn't want their first time since their fight to be some romp in a car, even if it was a stretch limo. She arched her back, moaning as he licked at her pulse. “You,” she panted. “Under my dress.”

“Bloody hell.” He kissed her one last time, then flipped her back into the seat, where she landed with an _oomph._ Killian yanked his tie the rest of the way off and loosened his collar, his eyes never leaving hers. Emma gathered the material of her skirt in her hands, pulling it up, knowing they didn't have long. She scooted to the edge of the seat, legs spread, Killian's rough hands sliding over her thighs. Emma squirmed, impatient, wishing he would just get on with it already. His fingers slid under the edge of her panties, making the lightest contact with her aching core. “Hmm, I wonder what color these are,” he said, tugging gently. He tugged harder, _sharper_ , the thin cloth ripping. What was left of her black underwear appeared his hand, dangled in front of her. “Were these new?”

Emma nodded, a wave of pure lust washing through her. Christ, he was _tearing_ her clothes now.

He grinned rakishly at her, then stuffed the ruined clothing into his pocket. Killian pressed her thighs wider, kissing the inside of each. Emma's hips rolled, desperate for his mouth, for some kind of relief. She moaned far too loudly as he tasted her, wicked tongue licking a stripe through her slit. His hands slid under her ass dragging her closer, her entire lower half off the the seat completely now. All she could see was the barest glimpse of his dark hair between her thighs, skirt clenched in her fists.

Emma had to bite her lip to keep her moans and mewls to a minimum, the pleasure sharp and sweet after so long without him. He tongued her clit, swirling around it, sucking it into his mouth. Emma cried out, her feet rising involuntarily, her body trying to curl in on itself as the pressure mounted. Killian lifted one leg onto his shoulder, mouth working her clit faster and faster. She let go of the skirt, covering her mouth with her hand just in time, biting on the tender flesh of her palm as her orgasm rocked her, her whole body shaking.

Killian hummed against her, bringing her down slowly, setting her back in the seat. He ducked out from under her dress, looking smug, still tenderly caressing her legs. “Alright, love?”

Emma struggled to sit up, still panting for breath. “Yeah. Damn.”

“We're only just getting started, my love.”

She gave him a weak smile; some of her arousal glistened on his chin. “You might want to wipe your mouth, Killian.”

His tongue darted out to lick his lips. “Hmm, perhaps you should clean me up yourself, Swan.”

Emma pushed the rumpled skirt down over her legs and beckoned him forward. He practically lept back into the seat next to her, and she kissed him, tasting herself plainly. She licked and lapped at his mouth until he was a bit more presentable. It was a good thing too, because they arrived at the hotel moments later. Killian stuffed his tie into the pocket of his jacket and placed it around her shoulders before scrambling out of the limo. Emma tried not to notice his slightly awkward gate or the way he stood behind her just long enough to adjust himself in his pants.

When his hand settled on the small of her back, they headed inside, moving directly for the elevators. They took the next car up, joined by an older couple, and a tired looking family of four. Emma pressed the button for their floor and settled with Killian in the back of the elevator, standing directly in front of him. His hands came around her waist, under his jacket, pulling her silently against his chest. Even through the layers of her skirt, she could feel the outline of his bulge. She moved a fraction to her left, smiling at Killian's deep breath as the bulge rubbed against her ass. Emma followed the numbers in the display as they went up, grinding back against him, her movements hidden by the voluminous skirts.

“You are playing with fire, lass,” Killian muttered softly in her ear. The doors opened and the family stepped off, leaving them alone with the other couple, who paid them no mind. Emma's only reply was to lean back more, covering his hands with hers. On the next floor, the elderly couple left too, leaving them alone. Emma dragged their joined hands up to her covered breasts, sighing as Killian gave them a squeeze.

“I told you,” she said, craning her neck to see his face. “I want you.”

Killian groaned, squeezing a bit harder on her breasts. “I need you so much, Emma.”

“I know.” The doors clicked open on their floor and they hurried out, hand in hand, moving down the hall to their room. Emma got the door open, pressing Killian against it as soon as it was closed. Her heels made it easy for her to kiss him, fusing their lips together as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Killian's hands slid over her shoulders, pushing his jacket off then reaching for the zipper of her dress. He let out a frustrated growl when it didn't come open all the way; there was a button at the sheer top. Emma peeled his shirt off, her mouth on his chest. She licked every ridge of his toned muscles, tongue circling his nipples, fingers sliding over the soft hair. She couldn't wait to feel it rubbing her nipples. Killian loosened her dress as she tasted his skin; she could feel him shiver.

“Emma,” he groaned, head hitting the door as she bit down at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “Fuck.” She chuckled, tongue licking at his collarbone, that ridge where his arm met his shoulder that she loved so much. It had been far too long since she got to appreciate his body; something she was going to rectify tonight.

“You're mine,” she said quietly, hands sliding over his ribs.

“Yes,” he panted. “All yours, lass.”

“Then take me to bed.”

No other protest made, Killian picked her up bridal style and carried her to the enormous king size bed in the bedroom of their suite. Emma's mouth latched onto his neck, scruff tickling her nose as she sucked a mark into his skin. As soon as he put her down, he started to peel off her dress, his eyes widening when he realized she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. He'd already stripped her of her panties.

“God, you're gorgeous,” he said reverently, a large hand cupping her breast. He thumbed at the nipple, watching it harden under his touch. Emma arched into him, leaning back on her elbows, warmth pooling in her stomach once more.

“I missed this,” she murmured, eyes closed. “I missed you, Killian.” She sighed when she felt his lips on her stomach, starting at her navel and moving up to the valley of her breasts. His clothed leg slipped between her parted thighs, and she ground her hips into the hard muscle.

Killian reached down and slid off her heels, leaving her completely nude before him. He left a parting kiss to her chest then reached for his now painfully tight pants. Emma sat up, moving to kneel behind him, her small hands sliding over his back. She gently massaged the muscles, watching them ripple and flex as he chucked his pants. Her mouth went a bit dry when she glanced over his shoulder; his thick hard cock lay against his stomach, begging for her touch.

“See something you like, Swan?” he said, his accent thick with arousal. He curled his fingers around his cock, lightly stroking, sighing in relief.

Watching him touch himself just made her wetter, sharpening the tiny ball of _need_ at the apex of her thighs. Emma slid her arm under his, her chest pressed against his back, her hand covering his, her fingers fitting into the spaces between his so they were stroking him together. He was warm, velvety smooth and _hard_. Her core clenched, remembering just how fucking _good_ he made her feel.

“Yeah, I do. _You_.”

“Come here, love.” Emma scrambled around, settling on her knees, tucked between his spread legs. Killian brought her hand to his cock, encouraging her to stroke and rub him. He made little hums of pleasure, hips rocking gently. This was so different from what she'd expected; she expected rough and frantic, the desire to have too much. But this was no less intense, just slower. Almost as if they were relearning each other. Killian drew her in for a slow languid kiss, his free hand sliding down between her legs. Emma moaned into his mouth as he stroked her, fingers slipping easily through her wet core.

“You like that, Emma?” he asked, kissing the corner of her mouth. She widened her knees, giving him just a little more access. He teased her, circling her clit and she moaned again.

“So good, Killian,” she mumbled against his lips. “Don't stop.” She kept stroking him, her thumb brushing the tip, smearing precum over it. Killian hissed, sliding a finger inside her.

“Fuck, you're so wet for me, lass. I'm gonna slide right in, fill you up.” He added another finger, Emma inhaling sharply. “You love that, don't you? Taking all of me inside.”

Emma was riding his fingers now, arms around his neck for leverage. “Fuck, more. _God_.” He stretched her with a third finger; it wasn't the same, but she didn't want him to stop.

“That's it, love. Beautiful.” He kissed her deeply, his free hand on her waist, keeping her steady, guiding her, tightening when she jerked. She jerked again, as he found _that_ spot, whimpering with need.

“I'm gonna...oh god, Killian... _close_. _Please.”_

He let go of her waist, his free hand finding her throbbing clit. He flicked it rapidly with his thumb, sending her tumbling over the edge in seconds. Her nails dug into his skin as she cried out, every muscle tightening, pleasure racing through her veins.

She slumped against his chest, her body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Killian pulled his hands away, wiping them on the duvet before stroking her back. He kissed her temple, whispering how incredible she was.

It took her a few minutes to catch her breath, but she could see plainly that he still wanted her. And god, she _needed_ him. She wanted them back in every way possible, so they could move forward. Emma pressed light kisses to his neck, her hand sliding between them again.

“Oh god, _Emma_ ,” Killian hissed as she started to stoke him again.

“I need to feel you,” she whispered into his ear, nipping on the lobe. “Please, Killian.”

He kissed her, harsh and demanding, reaching for his discarded pants. She wasn't surprised when he pulled the little foil packet right out of his pocket, tearing it quickly. They knew what would happen after dinner. It had been far too long already.

He pushed Emma onto her back, looming over her, rubbing the ridge of his cock over her clit. Emma bit her lip, trying not to whine as he teased her, want blooming in her stomach. It was almost a surprise when he finally slid into her, filling her up just as he said. Emma moaned in pleasure, the stretch and burn of him along her walls exactly what she had been missing. Killian braced his hands on either side of her head, rocking into her slowly, letting them both feel it.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he groaned, his thrusts getting a little sharper, making her body shake. “Always so tight. God, I love fucking you, lass.”

Emma wrapped her legs around his trim waist, her back arching under him. “Harder,” she gasped. “Oh god. _Harder._ ”

Killian snapped his hips sharply. “Like this?” he growled, leaning down to capture her lips. Emma mewled her approval, tension coiling in her stomach again. Killian grasped one of her hands, threading their fingers together tightly over her head as he hit her just right, over and over again. Emma met him thrust for thrust, her hips rocking up, her mouth tearing from his as she cried out in ecstasy. Killian's hips stuttered, his rhythm faltering as she clenched around him, then he was there too, falling and falling, until he collapsed on top of her.

The bed was so soft, they seemed to sink into it, which was good because Emma was fairly certain she couldn't move. For the moment, she was worn out. Killian managed to roll off her...only to drag her with him, draping her over his chest. She could hear the rapid beat of his heart, gradually slowing, reflecting her own. It felt like a weight had been lifted, like they'd gotten out from under their gray cloud.

Killian toyed with the ends of her ponytail, his eyes closed. Emma almost thought he was asleep, until he started humming softly. She listened for a minute or two, feeling the vibrations under her palm. He appeared to have a nice voice, even to her ear. She didn't recognize the tune though.

“Is that a song?” she asked softly.

“Aye. It's a lullaby my mother used to sing when we were children.”

“It sounds nice. I didn't know you could sing.”

“I don't do it very often. Self conscious, I suppose.”

“Self conscious? You?” He was cocky, sometimes to the point of being insufferable. But she usually found it kinda charming.

“Displaying a talent that wasn't football related generally didn't go over well back on the estate.”

“That's dumb.” She had trouble seeing her Killian as being bullied about something, especially with his brother around. However, there was still so much she was learning about him. “Would you sing for me?”

“Now, Swan, we were having a perfectly nice evening.”

She propped her head in her hand and looked down at him. He was actually a bit flushed and she was fairly certain it had nothing to do with the recent sex. “Please?”

He sighed, as if very put out. “Give me a minute to get cleaned up, okay?”

She smiled. “I can do that.”

Killian huffed and got up, presumably headed for the bathroom to wash and trash the condom. Emma rolled around on the huge bed—it was even bigger than her one back home—finally finding the edge of the duvet and pulling it back. She didn't bother with any clothes, knowing their night wasn't over. When Killian came back, she was propped up against the headboard, waiting expectantly. Killian ducked his head bashfully as he climbed into the bed, still not looking directly at her. She tucked herself into his side, gently taking his hand in hers. She felt his lips brush her hair softly, then he began to sing quietly.

She listened, transfixed, hardly taking in the words; she just let the soothing sound of Killian's voice wash over her. He _was_ good. His voice was low and rich, like melted chocolate. She felt it deep in her soul; it made her so happy that he shared it with her.

When the song ended, Emma raised her head and kissed him sweetly. “Thank you.”

“For what, love?”

“Everything?” There would still be things they needed to work out, but for now she was content. They had time.

“I'm afraid I didn't do much tonight, Swan. It was all you.”

“I wasn't talking about tonight. Although, I did have an amazing time.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “I guess...I meant...for fighting to make this work? For thinking that's it's worth it.”

“I'm sorry for nearly screwing it all up. I never meant to hurt you, Emma.”

“We've got different views of the world; we're not going to see eye to eye on everything. Besides, that would be boring as hell.”

“Let's try to make our disagreements a little _less_ interesting though, yeah?”

“No problems here. I think we're due for a nice stretch of boring.”

She only hoped they could get it.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The light burned his eyelids, making him groan. He squeezed them shut, not wanting to wake up just yet. Killian rolled over, but didn't find the warm body he expected. Cold sheets rustled under his fingertips and he frowned. Where was Emma?

Squinting, he managed to open one eye, which confirmed what he'd felt. She wasn't in the bed with him. He sat up, the sheet pooling around his waist. Sun streamed in from the balcony, the wall of glass that separated them from the outside. One of the doors was open about halfway; Killian could hear the ocean, usually a soothing sound.

Lately, it wasn't as soothing without Emma by his side.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Killian climbed out of bed, reaching for a pair of boxers left discarded hastily on the floor. He pulled them on, finally getting a glimpse at the wall clock. It was after ten. Killian hadn't slept that late in a while. Although, considering their activities the night before, he shouldn't have been surprised. They had quite a bit of time to make up for.

Killian sighed and stretched, arms high over his head, working out some of the stiffness. “Now, where are you, lass?” he muttered, heading for the ajar door.

He found her on the balcony, clad only his button down shirt from the night before. Her long golden hair streamed down her back in soft waves, the ends curling in the humid air. Her back was to him; she leaned over the railing, his shirt riding up enticingly. He grinned wolfishly, striding over to her. He placed his hands lightly on her hips, fingers gently caressing her hipbones.

“Good morning, my love,” he murmured, burying his nose on her hair.

Emma shivered, humming happily. “Hey.”

“I missed you when I woke.”

“Sorry. I didn't have the heart to wake you up. You looked so cute.”

Killian huffed. “Cute? Humph.”

“What? I thought that would appeal to your vanity.”

Killian's hands slid up under his shirt, gently pulling her hips back toward his. “Is that vanity, princess?”

Emma hissed softly, grinding her ass into his hardening cock. “Hmm, maybe you did miss me after all.”

His hands slid higher, shirt bunching around his wrists, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. He nuzzled her neck, lips brushing her skin. “I always miss you, Emma,” he whispered. It was true. When he wasn't with her, there was a dull ache in his chest, one he was afraid to examine too closely. There was still so much they had to learn about each other.

Emma moaned softly, her hand coming up to thread through his hair. “Again?” she whimpered, her voice breaking with desire.

“I just can't seem to help myself, love,” he said, spinning her around. He pressed her back against the rail, kissing her deeply. His hands came up to cradle her face, fingers of his right hand weaving into her hair, twisting and tugging. He groaned as her soft hands caressed his ribs, sending frissons of want down his spine. “Emma...”

She silenced him with a kiss, nails scratching his chest. “I really hate you sometimes,” she mumbled.

“And why's that, darling?” He kissed and nipped at her neck, pulling the collar of his shirt aside so he could lick her collarbone.

“For... _oh_...” Her hands circled his waist, dragging his hips closer to hers. He could feel her heat, grinding into him. “For...god, right there,” she hissed, his teeth scraping the sensitive spot below her ear.

He started unbuttoning the shirt, lips kissing every inch of exposed flesh...and there was a sharp knock on the door of their suite. Killian growled, still kissing and licking, unwilling to let her go.

“Killian...”

“Sod it,” he mumbled, biting down gently on her nipple.

“Can't,” she moaned. “I...ordered us...breakfast.”

Killian grumbled, kissing the swells of her breasts. It was so hard to let her go once he had her in his arms. “Bloody hell,” he cursed. “Fine.” He set her on her feet and stepped away, trying to get his desire for her under control.

Emma kissed his lips briefly, fingers fumbling with the buttons. “I'll be right back.”

Killian nodded, and moved to sit at the small glass table, breathing steadily. They had all day to be together; he could be patient. Gradually, he calmed, listening to Emma's gentle but slightly breathless—he grinned, proud to know he was the cause of  _that—_ voice with the staff who'd brought their breakfast. The cart clanged into their suite and Emma thanked their waiter. She pushed the cart out to the balcony herself, smiling when she saw him.

“Feeling better?” she asked with a sly grin.

Killian shrugged. “Not as well as I could, but well enough, lass. What have we got?”

“A little of everything,” she replied. “I didn't know what you'd be hungry for.”

Killian looked her up and down. “Well, I can definitely say it's not food, love.”

Emma swatted his shoulder. “I promise I'll make it up to you,” she said, giving him a little pout. It was very cute. Of course, it made him want to suck that pouty lip into his mouth, but he could control himself.

“I'm gonna hold you to that, lass.”

She leaned over and kissed him. “I wouldn't expect anything else.”

Seeing that dazzling smile directed at him...his heart clenched. He couldn't really put into words just how hard he'd fallen for her, how much she meant to him. He wanted to tell her, to see the look on her face when he said the words. But their fight was still too fresh. She'd forgiven him, but he still wanted to make it up to her, to  _prove_ how much he cared for her before he told her.

Emma pulled up the chair next to him, getting them plates and piling them high with waffles and eggs and sausage. Killian reached for the toast, slathering them with butter and jelly, just the way Emma liked. There was coffee and juice, a veritable feast. They laughed and teased; Emma got a huge glop of jelly on his shirt when she tried to shove a piece of toast into his mouth.

“Still clumsy, lass,” he chided, cleaning it with his thumb. “Hmm.”

“I wouldn't have been if you weren't so stubborn.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I think we're both a bit stubborn, my love.”

Her eyes softened the way the often did when he said that. That look gave him hope that she felt as he did, that she loved him too. “At least we're not boring.”

“Aye. So what did you want to do today?”

“You mean aside from the obvious?”

Killian nearly choked on his waffle. “If you  _want_ to stay inside all day, I'll not argue. But I do recall seeing one of those lovely bikinis in your bag.”

“Looking through my things now?” she teased.

“Is it my fault you left it open?”

“Maybe I left it open on purpose.”

“And yet you're wearing _my_ shirt.”

Emma shrugged. “It's comfy. Do you want it back?”

Killian laughed and shook his head. “All my clothes look much better on you, lass. Although, if you keep this up I shall have to get a whole new wardrobe.”

Emma blushed. “Sorry. I guess I do steal them, don't I?”

He took her hand, squeezing her fingers. “I don't mind. Truly.”

Emma leaned her head on his shoulder. “Well, I was hoping we could explore today. Maybe you could show me around? Then we could go to the beach.”

“Didn't see much when you flew in, did you?”

“I was too tired. I didn't realize how long of a flight it was.”

Killian curled his arm around her, stroking her arm. “Why'd you come here, Emma? To Hawaii, I mean. You could have gone anywhere.”

Emma laughed. “Would you believe I forgot my passport?” She scooted closer, arm going around his waist. “Remember me telling you about my mother?” Killian nodded. “We were talking about this charity thing. Okay, technically, she was talking and I was pretending not to listen. It's an annual thing that Neal's dad hosts and I hate going to it.” She sighed. “I just...couldn't take it anymore, I guess. I packed some things and got on a plane. When I landed in LA, I realized I wasn't far enough away.”

“But you didn't have your passport so...”

“I wound up here, yeah.”

Killian kissed the top of her head. “Well, I am very glad you did, Emma. You've definitely livened things up around here.”

“Says the guy who could lose his job for dating me.”

“That was my choice to make, love. I knew what I was getting into. Well, okay, maybe I didn't at first, but I don't regret it. I could never regret you.”

“You say that now.”

“And I'll be saying it a long time from now, Emma. You'll see.”

They stayed like that for a while, quiet, watching the ocean. When it got too warm for her in his shirt, they decided to change and head into town. Killian wanted to show her some of his favorite places, maybe take a walk through one of the little markets.

Their first stop was a little hole in the wall called the Rabbit Hole, the closest thing to a proper English pub near the UH campus. He got to introduce her to fish and chips and good English beer, which made her laugh.

“I didn't really understand what the 'chips' were when I was a kid,” Emma said, picking through the paper.

“The meaning seems to have gotten lost on its way across the pond,” Killian agreed. He sipped on his beer. “The newspaper is what makes it good.”

“So you keep saying.” She clinked her bottle with his and took a sip. Her face twisted into a grimace. “Is this supposed to be good?”

“Of course!” He smirked. “Perhaps it's an acquired taste?”

“Like a certain Englishman I know?”

Killian tapped her shin with his shoe. “Admit it, Emma. You liked me from the very beginning.”

She smiled coyly. “Maybe. Which time are we talking about?”

“Both?” he said hopefully.

“You wish.” Then she grinned. “I have to admit this trip is a lot more interesting than I expected.”

“In a good way?”

She leaned up across the table and kissed him. “Yeah.” She winked at him, then stuffed a chip in her mouth. “So why'd you become a mechanic?”

Killian took a long pull from his beer. “When I had to start taking Mother to the hospital, she...couldn't work. So I started taking odd jobs around the estate. One of the older gents...had a garage. He started teaching me, taking an interest in me. I knew I would need a way to support myself when I went to university, so I did what I've always done. Applied myself, learned everything I could. Given what happened to Liam...it felt appropriate.”

Emma threaded her fingers with his, and he appreciated her gentle support. “I think that's really great, Killian.”

He smiled softly. “Aye, well, seems I have a talent for it. Robin often says I'm the best he's got.”

Emma's brow crinkled in thought. “Robin? Tall guy, sandy brown hair? Talks like you?”

Killian laughed. He'd nearly forgotten that Emma had met his boss already. “Aye, that's him. He told me that he fixed some tires for you?”

Emma blushed. “Right. I didn't want to call you because you were working on your thesis. Sorry?”

“Nothing to forgive, darling. I know you can take care of yourself.” He wasn't threatened by her; in fact, he loved her spirit, her yearning to be her own person. “Do you think we should all get together soon? I know Robin would love to meet you. Properly. Again.”

“You told him about me?”

“He was the one who urged me to tell you the truth about how we met.”

“He was nice. And smart,” she said pointedly, giving him a little teasing grin. God, he was glad they could tease each other about it now. He hadn't realized just how heavily it had been weighing on him until it no longer was. “But I think that's a great idea. I'd like to meet your friends. Elsa too.”

“Of course she's included, love. She seems like a lovely lass.”

“If she ever tells you about the time she got some of her hair singed off, it wasn't me.”

“I'll keep that in mind, darling.”

After they finished lunch, they swung by the UH campus, walking hand in hand. It wasn't very busy, with only the summer classes in session. Still, they had fun as Killian showed her the dorm where he used to live, some of the places he liked to hang out, do some reading. They stopped by the bookstore; Killian jokingly made a show of buying himself a couple of new t-shirts since Emma kept stealing his. She just rolled her eyes at him, but he caught her smiling.

He stowed the bags in his Jeep before they headed for the park. “You said you rebuilt your Jeep?” Emma asked, as they headed down the street.

“Aye. There's a junkyard, I'm friends with the owner. She was a rusted out chassis when I first got her. Spent my weekends my first semester fixing her up.”

“And you couldn't resist painting on a skull and crossbones?”

He ducked his head, a bit bashful. “Perhaps I'm a pirate at heart, love.”

Emma bumped his shoulder. “I think I can see that.”

“Are you fond of pirates, sweetheart?”

“Maybe.” She had an adorable blush that looked like it belonged on a much younger woman. He wondered what she was like in high school, before she'd been hurt and frustrated by her life. Would she have even given him the time of day back then? Did it matter? She was with him now. And he intended to keep her as long as she let him.

“Oh, this is amazing,” she said, cutting through his thoughts. “Look at that!”

Killian looked in the direction she was pointing. There was a fountain down the street in the direction they were walking. On either side of the street were a series of little shops and stands; it was one of his favorite places. “I thought you'd like this,” he replied, tugging a little on her hand. “Shall we have a look around?”

“Sure.”

It was mostly tourist trickets and whatnot, but there were a few real jems. Emma found a little boutique that she spent over an hour in; they came out with Killian carrying a fist full of bags. She was wearing a new hat, made of wicker and flopping, ringed with flowers.

“Are you sure all this is going to fit on the drive back, darling?” he couldn't help but tease.

Emma pushed him, making him stumble. “If it's too much for you...”

Killian caught her around the waist, ducking his head under her overlarge hat. “I'm only teasing, love.” He kissed her cheek, then stole another from her lips, just because he could. “Am I forgiven?”

She bit her lip...and poked him lightly in the ribs. “You're lucky I lo-like you so much, Killian.”

Once again, he didn't call her out on her near slip. “I know, lass.”

At the next shop, they stopped, browsing. It was a place that carried homemade jewelry; necklaces, bracelets, rings, all kinds of things. Silver, gold, stainless steel. A charm on a leather thong caught his eye; on closer examination, it seemed to be swan? Perhaps. If you squinted. He held it up; he liked the way the painted enamel caught the light.

“What do you think about this one, Swan?”

Emma turned, crossing the tiny space. “It's pretty.”

Killian held it up against her pale skin. “It suits you.” He turned to the young lady manning the register. “I'll take it.”

“Killian, you don't have to...”

“Hush now, sweetheart. I can buy my girlfriend a pretty necklace if I want to.” The young cashier just grinned conspiratorially at them before handing Killian his change. He pocketed it, then turned back to Emma. “Now turn around.” Emma did so and he looped the leather around her neck, tightening the clasp. “There.”

“Thank you, Killian. It's really sweet.” She kissed his cheek, then tucked her arm through his. “Ready to go?”

“Aye. I do believe the beach is calling our names, Swan.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon at the beach, after dropping off Emma's bags at the hotel. It was right on the beach, so they could walk easily. Emma's bag seemed to weigh a ton; he couldn't imagine what she had in there. “Love, we're relaxing on the beach, not storming it. What's in here?”

Emma squeezed his bicep. “These feel real enough. You sure you're feeling okay?”

Killian jerked her to him, making her stumble a little. “I feel  _fine._ Perhaps you'll get a demonstration later, yeah?”

“I better.”

“Is that a challenge, love?”

She grinned. “Maybe.”

“Bloody minx.” He kissed her, right there in the middle of the sidewalk, stealing their breath. “You just might be the death of me, Emma.”

She stroked his neck, fingers teasing the hair at his nape. Killian had to bite back a moan; those little affectionate touches always got to him. “I hope not. I happen to like you, right where you are.”

Killian smiled, kissing her nose swiftly before moving them down toward the beach. “Come on, you said you wanted a surfing lesson, lass.”

It was a warm day; the beach was busy. There wasn't time for their antics of before, too many prying eyes. Killian groused quietly when she pulled a wet suit over her bikini—purple with polka dots, very 1950s—for them to try a hand at surfing. They rented some boards and paddled out, holding hands as they rode the swells.

“Now you don't have to stand up right away, Emma,” he advised, his leg bumping hers in the water. “Just get the feel of it.”

“How many times have you done this?”

He shrugged. “Only a handful or so. Not really my thing.”

“God, this was such a bad idea.”

“Oh come now, love. You came here to get out of your comfort zone, right? Live a little.”

“Promise you won't laugh?”

“Promise.”

Well, it could have been worse. It wasn't so much Emma's lack of coordination as her fear getting the better of her. Still, she only missed standing up by a little and no, he didn't laugh. He enjoyed seeing her have fun, even when she was coughing and spluttering in the salty sea. They got into a splash fight, returning to the beach soaked and laughing.

“Think you'll want to go out again, Swan?”

Emma started peeling off her wet suit. “Maybe, perhaps without the boards though. I want to see if you can catch me.”

“What do I get if I do?”

“A kiss?”

“But I get those for free.”

“Well, you're so good at it.” She flopped down on her stomach, then leaned in to kiss him. She tasted faintly of salt, the water still clinging to her skin. “Hmm, see? I just can't stop.”

“I guess it's a good thing I like kissing you then.”

“Seems to me like you like a lot more than that.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I'll not deny it, love. But we're not really in the proper place for  _that._ Unless you want us to get arrested?”

“Nah. Torturing you is much more fun.” She ran her fingers through his wet hair. “If you win, then you can have me any way you want,” she said, low in his ear.

“Guess I better not lose then, eh?”

Emma smirked. “No, you shouldn't.”

It was a sweet kind of torture, hanging out there on the beach. Emma stretched out on her towel, sunglasses covering her emerald green eyes, book in her hand. Killian copied her, hoping for a distraction from all her pale perfect skin. It worked...sort of. Except for those times they had to pause to reapply sunscreen and he got to feel her gentle touch massaging lotion on his body, soothing and arousing at the same time.

He was completely addicted to her.

It wasn't until the sun was low in the sky that she suggested they have their race. Killian even gave her a head start, watching as she ran into the water, drying hair streaming out behind her. He counted to twenty then followed, ducking around a giggling four year old as he ran. He dove into the water, swimming after her. He came up for air, scanning for her; he found her off to his left. Killian got doused by a wave, distracted, then growled. He took a deep breath, diving under the water so she wouldn't see him coming. Killian caught her legs and pulled her under lightening fast, then came back up, to her coughing and gasping.

“You cheated!”

“How can I cheat when you let me win?”

Emma clung to him, still catching her breath. “Why would I let you win?”

“Because you want me?”

“Think a lot of yourself, don't you?”

Killian slid his hands under her thighs, drawing their hips together, her legs went around his waist automatically. She was weightless in the water. “I don't have to, I can see it in your eyes, sweetheart.”

“Have I mentioned that I hate you?”

“No, you don't.”

“No. I don't.”

“Ready to go back?”

She grinned. “Yeah.”

“Why don't you go ahead and shower?” Killian said, when they got back to their suite. “I'll order us something to eat.”

“You're not joining me?” He swore he heard a hint of disappointment in her voice.

“Hmm, as enticing as that would be, Swan, I've got other plans for you.”

“Do I get a hint?”

“Life's full of surprises, love. Go on.” He swatted her ass as she walked away, just because. God, it was gonna be so annoying to go back to work tomorrow. He just wanted to spend all his time with her, making her smile, holding her, bringing her pleasure until neither of them could stand. He sighed and picked up the phone, ordering them some dinner...along with a few extra things. After Emma finished her shower, he took one of his own, washing all the sand and salt off his body. He came out, towel slung low on his hips, not bothering to dress. Emma wasn't much better, splayed out in one of the chairs wearing another of his shirts...and nothing else.

“Did you bring any of your own clothes, love?”

“You said I looked better in yours.”

“So I did.” He bent down to kiss her, getting lost in the feel of her lips on his. They were still kissing when there was another knock on their door. He grumbled only a little when he pulled away to get it. He didn't want anyone else seeing his Swan like this, barely dressed and wanting. Not again.

“What's on the tray?” she asked when he wheeled the cart in.

“That's for later,” he said with a smirk. His eyes drifted to the mirror on the opposite side of the room. They were in a place _designed_ for indulgence; Killian planned on taking full advantage of it.

“You're up to something.”

“Well, you did give me free reign, Swan. Unless you're rethinking that?” He would never do something she wasn't comfortable with.

She smiled up at him. “I trust you, Killian.”

Hearing that after everything they'd been through...it was more than he deserved. He wanted to tell (again) that he loved her, but he settled for kissing her instead. “You're the most extraordinary lass I have ever met.”

“You don't get out much, do you?”

“I'm not an idle flatterer, love. You should know that by now.”

She nodded silently, a bit of flush on her cheeks. “So what do we have, aside from the mysterious tray?”

He'd ordered them a New York style pizza, or as close as they could get outside of the actual place. He knew he'd made the right choice when he saw her eyes light up. It was good to know that not _everything_ about her home brought annoyance and frustration. She probably missed it the same way he sometimes missed London. That he couldn't just step out his door and feel the pulse of the city, hop in one of the infamous black cabs and head to Piccadilly or Trafalgar Square. Lord knew it wasn't the _weather_ he missed, all damp and rainy, gray. He wondered if Emma would like to go there with him. He hadn't been back in seven years, had no reason to.

“What are you thinking?” Emma asked, wiping grease off her hands. “You looked far away.”

Killian shrugged. “Home, I suppose. I haven't been back in a long time.”

“Do you still think of it as home?”

“Sometimes. Then I think about leaving here...I have to say I'd be torn. Not much I could do with my degree back home.” Not to mention that he had no family back there. His father was...somewhere, maybe. Not that he cared. He'd given up on _that_ a long time ago.

Emma looked at him, opened her mouth then shut it again. Almost like she wanted to tell him something, but changed her mind. “I have trouble imagining you there.”

Killian laughed. “Sometimes I do too. I've made things work here. Found a few other ex pats like me. Maybe it's an island thing.”

“I'm not going to be able to understand _any_ of you where you're all in the same room, am I?”

Killian cleaned off his hands, tossing the napkin on the nearly empty cart. “Depends. Are you fond of my accent, love?”

She shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”

Killian reached over and caught her fingers in his, drifting down to brush her fluttering pulse. “Oh, I think you are,” he said, laying it on a little thicker than he usually did. “I'm not sure I want you exposed to those limey bastards. Might be more than you can handle.”

Emma got up and stood in front of his plush chair. His shirt fluttered around the tops of her thighs; he was certain it didn't cover her ass. “Nope, not affected,” she said softly.

Killian leaned forward, loosening his towel, letting it fall open so she could stand between his legs. “I think you're _lying_ ,” he said, kissing one of her exposed thighs. “I think you like hearing all the dirty things I'd like to do to you.”

Her pupils dilated, just as he expected. “Like what?”

“Lick every inch of you until you're begging me to take you,” he replied, hands sliding up the backs of her thighs. “Bring you to the brink over and over again until you can't stand it. Bend you over my desk, make you scream my name.”

Emma let out a shuddering breath, her hands curling over his shoulders. “Killian...oh god.”

Killian chuckled low in his throat. He hitched his shirt up her body; her stomach muscles were trembling. He kissed her there, wet open mouthed kisses, tongue circling her navel. “Does that turn you on, Swan?” he murmured in her skin. “Are you wet for me?”

Her hips rocked in his hands. “Why don't you check?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” she said, licking her lips. “I want you to do all those things to me.”

He squeezed her ass, jerking her bare mound closer to his mouth. He was so close to her he could _smell_ how much she wanted him. “That's not what I asked, love.”

“Christ, I'm _soaked_ alright? All I can think about half the time is how much I want you.”

“Is that so? Have you touched yourself, thinking of me?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation.

“Would you show me?”

Her eyes snapped to his. “Is that what you want?”

“Oh, this is just the beginning, Swan.” He kissed her hipbone. “I've got lots of plans for you.”

She nodded, once. “Okay.”

“Sit back in your chair, darling.” She did as he asked, crossing her arms and removing his shirt. As sexy as he found her in it, he liked the sight of her flushed pale skin even more. Emma scooted down in the chair, propping one leg up on the arm, exposing her wet pink cunt to his greedy gaze. He watched in fascination as she skimmed her palms over her breasts, teasing the hardening nipples. Killian moved to kneel in front of her, his towel falling away completely. His cock was already painfully hard, but he didn't want her to stop. “Beautiful,” he muttered.

Emma smiled faintly, tongue wetting her lips. “I thought about this,” she said. “Touching myself with you watching.”

He kissed her knee. “Don't stop.”

Emma plucked her nipples, a soft moan escaping. “Oh.” Her right hand drifted over her stomach, fingertips skimming down through her wetness. Killian swallowed, curling his hand around his cock, needing some kind of relief from the ache. Emma gathered moisture on her fingers, moving to circle her clit. She moved with sure strokes, knowing exactly what she liked. She spread her legs wider, dipping two fingers inside, lightly fucking herself.

“Bloody hell,” Killian breathed, riveted. “Make yourself come. I want to see it.”

Emma nodded wordlessly, fingers moving faster, plunging deeper. She shuddered when she found her sweet spot, moaning loudly. Moments later, she crashed over the edge, body trembling, walls clenching around her fingers. When she calmed, Killian brought her fingers to his lips, licking them clean. She tasted sweet and tangy. He loved it.

Killian stood, cock bobbing against his stomach. He dragged the chair over to where the mirror sat, propped against the wall. It was large and ornate, with a gilded antique frame. “What are you doing?” Emma asked, still a bit breathless.

“Having my dessert,” Killian replied, grinning wolfishly at her. He bent down to kiss her, tipping her chin up. “You.”

“Oh my god.”

Killian went for the covered tray, bringing it to where Emma sat. He laid it on the floor, tossing the cover into his now empty chair. There was a small bowl of strawberries (Emma's favorite) and bottle of chocolate syrup. He snagged a condom out of his pants, not wanting to fool with it when the time was right. Perhaps they should have a talk about that soon.

“Would you like a strawberry, love?”

Emma sat up, just a bit. “Yes, please.”

Killian picked one up, placing it in front of her lips. She kept her lust filled emerald gaze on his as she opened her mouth and bit down, a little juice dribbling down her chin. Killian smiled, leaning in to lick at it. Emma swallowed then caught his lips before he could pull away, kissing him hard.

“The princess enjoys this little game, eh?” he smirked, rubbing his free thumb over her kiss swollen lower lip.

“You have no idea how much I want you right now.”

“Oh, I think I do.” He glanced down, Emma following his eyes. His erection had only dwindled briefly, but now it was back and it _hurt._ “But I like playing with you, lass.” He fed her the rest of the strawberry, licking his fingers clean. He reached for the bottle, pulling the cap off. “Lay back, Swan.”

She had as he asked, skin flushed prettily with arousal. Killian tipped the bottle over, watching as she jerked. “That's cold!” she hissed, chest heaving.

“Or perhaps you're just _hot_ ,” he teased, leaning down to lick a stripe up her stomach. Chocolate smeared over her pale skin; it was sweet on his tongue. “Hmm.” He poured more chocolate, over the swells of her breasts, dripping over her puckered nipples. Killian picked up another strawberry, trailing it over her skin, smearing more chocolate. He popped it into his mouth as she watched with wide eyes. “Would you like one, Emma?”

She squirmed in the chair, fists clenching. “Yes.”

Killian prepared hers the same way, bringing it to her lips. She moaned as she bit into it, eyes falling closed. “Good?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I wonder if you taste as good.” He lowered his head to her chest, licking at the smeared chocolate. Emma moaned as he teased her, tracing her nipple with his tongue, lapping at her skin. He wrapped his arms under her back, drawing her closer as if he was going to devour her. Emma cursed and mewled, her fingers in his hair, tugging sharply whenever he got to a particularly sensitive spot. He'd been careful with the chocolate, knowing her body well, wanting her writhing and pleading.

“Killian,” she panted. “ _Please_. Fuck, it _hurts_.”

Killian raised his head, kissing her brow. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“I need you inside me. I need you to _fuck_ me.”

Her broken tone sent shivers down his spine. His cock throbbed with barely restrained need; he wondered if he'd ever get enough of her. “On your knees,” he growled.

He moved so she could get off the chair. There were still a few stray trails of chocolate down her torso, but it only made him want her more. Killian licked his lips, fumbling on the floor for the condom. He ripped the pack hastily and rolled it on, moving to kneel behind her.

“I want you to watch us,” he said, kissing her shoulder. “Can you do that?”

Emma nodded, eyes locked with his in the mirror. He'd never seen her more beautiful, pupils blown, chest heaving and flushed, lips kiss swollen. Killian ran his hands down over her chest, her stomach and she shivered.

“You're so soft, love,” he whispered, kissing her neck. “You like when I touch you?”

Emma leaned back against him, grinding her ass into his erection wantonly. “God yes.”

Killian hissed, fingers squeezing her hips. “Spread your legs.” She did so, nudging her ass back toward him. Killian reached down and guided himself in, both of them sighing at his intrusion. Emma gasped and moaned, grinding her hips down, taking him in as deeply as she could.

“Oh fuck,” she breathed, her head lolling.

Killian rocked his hips a little, moving just a little in her. “Does that feel good, Emma?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, “so good.”

He placed on hand on her stomach and one lightly around her neck, forcing her to return her gaze to the mirror. “Watch.” Her eyes dropped from his to where they were joined. Emma moaned as he slowly started to take her, long rolls of his hips, the pace agonizing but so, so good. He watched too, the sight incredibly erotic; Emma bowed in front of him, legs spread as he drove into her. His hand slid down her stomach, reaching for her clit. Emma's back arched as he touched her, a small cry tumbling from her lips.

“Let me hear you, lass.” he whispered in her ear. “Don't hold back.”

Emma nodded and cursed, a hand reaching back. She turned her head, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. “Fuck, you taste like chocolate,” she gasped, fingers still in his hair. Her eyes squeezed shut, a shudder wracking her. “Close. So _close_.”

Her walls were fluttering; he could feel it. Abruptly, he bent her over; Emma's hands hitting the carpet with a dull thud. She barely braced herself in time. She cried out as he took her with more force, the angle deeper now, hitting her just right.

“ _Fuck!_ ” she screeched, nails digging into the carpet. “ _Yes!”_

Killian curled himself over her, arm under her stomach. “Come, Emma.  _Come.”_

He felt it the moment she exploded, walls gripping him like a bloody vice, the powerful orgasm ripping through her. She screamed incoherently, arms giving out. Killian held her to him as he pushed through it, chasing his own pleasure. It washed over him in a rush, hips rutting into hers until he was spent.

He had just enough presence of mind to roll them onto their sides before he gave out completely. His arm throbbed where Emma fell on it, but he didn't care. Not when she was sated and panting in his arms. Killian brushed a line of kisses over her damp neck, combing his fingers through her hair soothingly. She hummed appreciatively, leaning back into him. He pulled his arm gently out from under her before it could get numb, rubbing patterns into her back. He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that; the floor wasn't exactly comfortable, but he didn't want to move.

He peaked a look in the mirror, over Emma's shoulder. Her eyes were closed, a tired smile on her face. Her breathing was evening out; it appeared she would drop off any moment. Killian smiled, pleased that he had made her feel that way. He kissed the shell of her ear, then knelt to lift her into the bed. Once she was settled, he padded to the bathroom to clean up. He had dried chocolate in his beard; he washed, the cold water like a chock to his system. Killian cursed lowly, not wanting to wake Emma. She still had some chocolate on her too, but they could shower in the morning before they left.

He cleaned up the tray and food as quietly as he could, pushing the chair back into place. There was a rather large brown stain on the off white cushion, oops. He must have gotten a bit carried away. Emma would find it funny, no doubt. Chuckling at that, he went to join her in the bed, grunting when she sought him out, snuggling into him. He dropped a kiss on top of her head, feeling that familiar ache in his chest.

“I love you,” he whispered. Killian held his breath, stunned that he'd said it out loud. Seconds ticked by and Emma didn't stir. She was fast asleep. He didn't know if that was better or not.

But he'd tell her. Soon. He only prayed she felt the same way.

* * *

Emma adjusted the earbuds in her ears; they kept coming loose. She was running on the treadmill in the resort gym since it was too wet out for her usual run. After they returned from Honolulu, the North Shore got doused with its first real  _soaking_ rain since her arrival. It had been raining for four days now.

She only hoped the weather improved. Killian's friend Robin had invited them all over for a cookout on Friday night. Emma would never admit it out loud, but she was a bit nervous. Will flat out didn't like her; although, he'd promised to be civil. That was before the fight; Emma didn't know if that still held up. Robin, on the other hand...well, he was Killian's  _boss_ which was a whole other complication. Since Killian had told her the truth, they'd been more circumspect, since she didn't want him to get caught.

She'd offered to move somewhere else, but Killian had refused. The damage was already done, he argued. They'd been lucky so far, perhaps their luck would hold. It was only for the summer. Emma was selfishly glad; if her project had a prayer of getting off the ground, then she was going to need the goodwill of the resort staff. That would be easier to get if she was an actual  _paying_ guest.

She felt a twinge of guilt, since she still hadn't explained any of this to Killian. She tried to rationalize it by telling herself that she was still working on it, but she knew that was a lie. They'd been in a really good place since their fight; she didn't want to bring work into it. But she'd have to. Soon.

Besides, she really wanted to hear what he thought. He was the expert, after all.

She finished her run, nodding to some of the other guests as she went to collect her things. She went back to her bungalow and showered, trying not to think about Killian. If she did that, then she'd just wind herself up and he wasn't there to ease her ache. She didn't know how, but the sex had gotten even  _better_ since their fight.

She felt it every time they touched, that soft buzz of electricity, warm and heady...loved. She felt  _loved_ when they were together, even if all he was doing was holding her. She caught him staring at her once or twice, when he thought she couldn't see. The tender adoring look on his face that Elsa talked about. God, she needed to tell him. It was on the tip of her tongue...all the time. But the last time she thought she loved someone, they hurt her. Badly.

_Killian's not Neal_ , she scolded herself.  _You know that._

She did, god help her she  _did_ , but it was still scary. She hadn't felt like this in a long time and even then it hadn't felt like... _this_ . They rarely went more than a few hours without speaking, or sending a simple text. And unlike when she was with Neal, they were never demanding or accusatory. Killian wasn't checking to see where she was or who she was with. He just wanted her to know he was thinking of her. He wanted to tell her a joke or share a story. Or, her personal favorite, he wanted to flirt shamelessly, often making her blush in public, while Elsa laughed.

She was still her own person with Killian. She was happiest when she was with him, but he flat out encouraged her to spend time with Elsa. Emma adored him for it. Elsa went on a tear, dragging Emma up and down the coast, ducking into nearly every shop they could find. Rain, her friend declared, was the perfect shopping weather.

Emma almost missed her ringing phone; she was blow drying her hair. She shut the dryer off hastily, smiling when she saw Killian's smiling face on the caller ID. “Hey.”

“This a bad time, love?”

“No, I just got out of the shower.”

Killian groaned. “Emma...”

“You asked, buddy.”

She heard his put out sigh and bit back a laugh. “ _Anyway_ ,” he said, “I was commissioned to check and see if we were still on for tomorrow evening.”

“At Robin's house? Yeah, as far as I know.”

“Excellent. Robin will be happy to hear it. He's been annoying me about it all morning.”

“Oh.” That wasn't exactly helping her nerves.

“Not to worry, lass. Robin sometimes acts like an old mother hen. You'll get used to it.”

“He's not that much older than us, isn't he?” Granted it had been dark, but she wasn't an idiot.

“Well no, but he's got a son. Roland, who's four. Been raising him by himself since his wife died.”

“Oh, that's so sad,” Emma replied softly. No wonder Robin was so kind to Killian. He also knew what it felt like to lose someone he loved.

“He's doing better now, but still likes to meddle,” Killian said, chuckling quietly. “He's all in a bother about this little party.”

“He doesn't have to make a big deal,” Emma said quickly.

“Afraid you're too late for that. But it should be a laugh. Oh, before I forget, you like _Star Wars_ , right?”

Emma's brow crinkled. “Yeah, why?”

“Rumor has it we'll be watching it.”

“Food _and_ a movie? Damn.” She chewed on her lip. “Should we bring anything? Is that a thing people do?”

Killian laughed. “Occasionally, but you don't have to, lass. Robin should have enough to feed a small army.”

“Are you sure?” The last thing she wanted was for Robin to think she was some stuck up rich girl like Will apparently did.

“Positive. I'll swing by and pick you and Elsa up around four, okay?”

“Okay. Miss you.”

“Miss you too, darling. I'll see you tomorrow.”

They hung up and Emma went back to drying her hair. When she finished, she found Elsa. “Hey, let's go out.”

Elsa cocked her head. “I know that look, Emma. What for?”

“I want to get something to take to Robin's tomorrow.”

“Okay. Such as?”

“Well, how about some wine for us. And...well, Robin's got little boy. I just thought it would be nice if we brought him something.”

“Oh, that sounds like a lovely idea. And we can pick up that painting I got for Anna. It should be framed by now.”

They had a very fun afternoon scouring the area for a toy for Roland. Emma kept dismissing things, changing her mind. Finally, she settled in a Jolly Roger playset, complete with Captain Hook and Jake the Neverland Pirate. Nothing too extravagant and age appropriate. Elsa bought a stuffed reindeer for Kristoff as a gag gift, which made Emma laugh.

“Why a reindeer?”

“Well, you know he's from Norway, right?” Emma nodded; she had a vague recollection of Anna telling her that. “He grew up out in the middle of nowhere, learning to skate on the fjords. Anyway, he told me a story about this reindeer that used to come around. He saw it so often, he gave it a name, Sven. So this is to remind him of Sven.”

“Remind me to thank him for getting you here. How'd he do it anyway?”

Elsa tucked the reindeer back into the bag. “Actually, he smuggled me onto the Rangers' private plane to Los Angeles. They were going there for the finals.”

“The Stanley Cup finals?” Emma didn't know a lot about hockey, but she did know _that._

Elsa nodded. “Anna goes to all the home games. When I told him I needed to see you, he pulled a few strings. He's a really good guy, Emma.”

“If I didn't know you better, I'd think you had a crush.”

Elsa wrinkled her nose. “No! Kristoff's sweet, terrific for _Anna_ , not me. But I'd definitely call him my friend?”

Emma grinned. “Friend is good. Especially if he and Anna are, you know, serious. He could be your brother in law someday.”

“Serious like you and Killian? Might I have _two_ brothers in law?”

“Elsa!” Christ, she hadn't even told him she loved him yet and Elsa was taking about marriage.

“I keep telling you, Emma. I know that look on his face. I've seen it on yours. He makes you happy. Happier than I've ever seen you. And you love him.”

“We've only been together for like six weeks! You can't base a lifetime on six weeks!” Then she clapped her hand over her mouth in horror. God, how could she be so _thoughtless._ “Elsa, I am _so_ sorry...I didn't mean that how it sounded.”

When they were in college, Elsa had a boyfriend. His name was Edward. Good family, funny, handsome. Adored Elsa. Then he got sick. Degenerative heart defect. He needed a transplant, but never got it. He died in the middle of their junior year, during Christmas break. Emma had just started to see Neal; she'd felt so guilty for being happy when her best friend was miserable and grieving.

So much death around her. Elsa withdrew after Eddie's death; she finished school after taking a semester off, but never went to parties or any of the socializing that she'd done before. Anna started replacing her at Arendelle family charity events and the like. Eddie's memory was why Elsa had fought so fiercely for Emma when she saw the path Emma was going down with Neal.

She would always be grateful to Elsa for that.

Elsa looked away, then sighed. “I know you didn't. Honestly, it's okay. It's been almost four years, Emma.”

“But you still miss him.”

“I do, but Eddie's gone. Seeing you here, seeing you with Killian...I'm jealous. God, I am _so_ jealous of you, Emma. And of Anna. Does that make me a bad person?”

Emma took her friend's hand. “No. You are one of the best people I know, Elsa. You're gonna be happy too, you know. You'll see.”

Elsa smiled wistfully. “Maybe. Just...think about what I said, okay? About you and Killian. Life is precious, Emma. Don't waste it.”

“I won't,” she promised.

Killian picked them up promptly at four the following afternoon. Emma greeted him with a kiss, little more enthusiastically than she normally did when Elsa was present. Killian didn't seem to mind, kissing her back eagerly.

“Perhaps we should spend more time apart if that's the welcome I get,” he teased when she pulled away.

“Don't you dare.”

His lips touched her temple. “I wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart. Hello, Elsa.”

“Hi, Killian.”

“Are you ladies ready to go?”

“Yeah, let me just get our bags.”

Killian frowned. “I told you you didn't have to bring anything, Emma.”

“I know, but I chose to ignore you. Besides, I wanted to.” She squeezed his fingers. “Don't worry, it's just some wine and little gift for Roland.”

“That's very sweet of you, lass.”

“I think you'll like it too,” she teased, helping Elsa with the awkward box. They got it loaded into the back of the Jeep, wedging it in with Elsa. Emma kept the wine up front with her, nestled between her legs.

“Sorry, lass,” Killian said to Elsa. “I'm not used to ferrying this many people around.”

“It's okay. We're not going far, right?”

“Should be there in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Perfect.”

They got to Robin's in twenty minutes; Killian had to take a detour around a fender bender. However, they arrived in one piece, with only mild grumbling. More from Killian than Elsa, as it happened. Emma suspected that for all his bravado, he was still a little wary when it came to Elsa. Emma understood how he felt; she was feeling it in that precise moment, that urge to be liked by the people important to the one you love.

“Let me get that for you, lass,” Killian declared, climbing out of the Jeep and reaching for the box. Emma was an old hand as disembarking from the high car, even in her more sturdy heels. It was trickier for Elsa, having to duck under the cage and around the pushed forward seat.

“Um, that's quite a step,” Elsa said, giving a little laugh.

Emma grinned. “You get used to it actually.” She was very fond of Killian's Jeep. “Everybody ready?”

Killian sidled up next to her, box under his arm. “You'll be brilliant, love,” he assured her softly, deftly reaching for her hand.

They marched up to Robin's door, but it burst open as they climbed the stairs. “Killian!” a small boy screamed. Emma hardly had a chance to take in the adorable dimples and dark brown hair before he lept into Killian's arms. Killian had to let her go _and_ drop the box to accommodate his little friend, picking him up with a little _oomph_ of surprise.

“Well, hello there, Roland,” Killian said, grinning. “Are you hiding from your papa again?”

Roland giggled, smiling happily. “Yeah. Will you hide with me, Killian?”

“Perhaps later, lad. Right now, I'd like you to meet someone.” Killian set the boy down in front of him, hands on his little shoulders. “Roland, this is my friend Emma. Can you say hello?”

Emma knelt down on the step, offering her hand. “It's very nice to meet you, Roland.”

Roland eyed her for a moment, then broke out into a toothy grin. “Hi,” he replied, giving her fingers a shake. “Are you Killian's girl friend?”

Emma exchanged looks with Killian, who shrugged. “You're very smart,” she told Roland, blushing a little. “Yeah, I am.”

“Cool.” Then to her surprise, Roland launched himself into her arms and hugged her tight. Emma blushed harder and hugged him back; he was really cute. “Who are you?”

Emma pulled away, realizing Roland had seen Elsa. “This is my friend Elsa. She's here all the way from New York.”

Elsa knelt to look Roland in the eye as well. “I'm very pleased to meet you, Roland.”

He cocked his head at her. “Are you Killian's girlfriend too?”

Elsa laughed. “No, no. I'm just Emma's friend.”

“Would you be my girlfriend? You're pretty.”

All three of them laughed. “Thank you,” Elsa said, blushing. Good grief, if Robin was half as charming as his son, they were all in trouble.

“Roland,” Killian cut in, “the ladies brought you a gift. Would you like to open it?”

“ _Present!”_ Roland screeched, suddenly ignoring them completely.

The front door opened again; Emma recognized a very hassled looking Robin. “Roland!” the older man scolded. “What did I tell you about running out of the house?”

Roland looked a little ashamed. “Sorry, Papa. Killian's here!”

Robin smiled exasperatedly. “Yes, I can see that.” He flipped a towel onto his shoulder. “I apologize for Roland's exuberance. We've been playing hide and seek while I got things ready.” He held out his hand to Emma. “Emma, I presume?”

She grinned and shook. “Yeah. Hi. Again.”

“It's good to meet you properly, Emma. Killian's told us a lot about you.”

“Has he now?” She looked askance at Killian, wondering what fresh trouble he'd gotten her into.

“All good things, I assure you.”

“We'll see about that. Robin, this is my friend Elsa.”

Robin stood up a little straighter. Elsa had that effect on people; she had a very regal presence. “How do you do, milady?”

Elsa smiled. “Very well, thank you. It was very kind of you to invite us into your home.” And there was Elsa, the hostess, the veteran of so many social functions. Emma had missed that about her friend. She was far better at it than Emma. Far more gracious.

Robin looked over at Killian. “I just thought it was time. It's been a very interesting summer so far, don't you think?”

Killian rolled his eyes. “Stuff it, you,” he said warningly. He turned to Emma and Elsa. “Don't mind him. He gets a bit full of himself, delusions of grandeur and whatnot.”

“Papa, can I open my present now?”

Robin looked at Emma, who got a bit nervous. Hopefully, she hadn't overstepped. “Only if you promise to  _thank_ Emma and Elsa  _properly_ .”

“I will!” Roland practically dived into the bag, pulling on the box awkwardly. Killian knelt down to help, giving Emma a knowing look when he saw what was in it. The boys tore the box open, revealing the small version of the Jolly Roger and its tiny crew. “Look, Killian! It's the Jolly Roger! Just like the movie!”

“Aye, lad. Now what do you say?”

Roland jumped up and launched himself at Emma again. “Thank you!”

Emma hugged him. “I'm glad you like it.”

“It's the _best!”_

Once Roland calmed down, the adults helped him haul his new prize inside. Killian got detained by Roland in the living room, while Robin showed Emma and Elsa around his home. It was bigger than Emma expected, light and airy, with an open concept main floor. Stairs led to the second floor, where the bedrooms were. There was a lot of wood, but it wasn't dark.

“I was always running about the forest when I was a child,” Robin explained, getting the girls something to drink. “It might have stuck a bit.”

Emma accepted the beer. “The closest forest we know is in Central Park,” she replied. “New York's not really an...outdoorsy kind of place.”

“No, it's filled with lots of pompous buggers who think they're better than everyone else,” a new voice cut in. Emma groaned inwardly when she recognized Will's voice.

“Will Scarlet,” Robin scolded. “Be nice.”

“Who are ya? Me mother?” Then he turned to Emma. Elsa was standing beside her, a bit nonplussed at Will's attitude. “Sorry, love. Couldn't resist. We have an understanding, don't we, lass?”

_Civil, Emma._ “Yeah, something like that.” She looked at Elsa. “Elsa, this is Killian's friend Will. Ignore everything he says. He's all hot air.”

“Hello,” Elsa said to Will, nodding curtly.

“Great, another blonde,” Will groused. “Seriously, mate, where do you find them?”

Elsa scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. “And what's  _wrong_ with blondes?”

“Nothin' if yer inta havin' yer heart ripped outta yer chest.”

“Will,” Robin interjected. “Why don't you take these out to the patio? Make yourself useful for once.” He shoved a pile of paper plates and cups into the man's hands, looking exasperated. Will accepted his task gracelessly, snagging the beer that was supposed to be Elsa's in the process.

“Sure, mate.”

Elsa looked stunned, but made no protest. “I think I'll go see how Killian and Roland are,” she said, leaving Emma alone with Robin.

“Bloody hell,” Robin cursed. “I don't know why he's being such an arse.” They watched as Elsa ignore Killian and Roland completely, following Will out onto the patio. “Um, is she gonna be alright?”

Emma burst into laughter. “Trust me, Elsa's a lot tougher than she looks. She can handle him.” She took another pull on her beer. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Robin shook his head. “No, I think I've got things under control, lass. But thank you.”

Emma hesitated, torn. She wanted to go find Killian, see how Roland was with his new toy. But this could be the only moment she got alone with Robin. As Killian's boss, he might have some insight into how to get her project off the ground. “Robin, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How well do you know Regina Mills?”

Robin looked like was about to choke, but he went along with it. They talked for so long, they lost track of time.

“Hey Robin, are we planning on eating any time soon?” Killian asked, entering the kitchen. “I'm bloody starving.”

Robin broke off and nodded. “Yeah. I was just taking the meat out to the grill.” He picked up the platter and moved out toward the patio.

“What was that about, love?” Killian asked.

Emma leaned in and kissed his cheek, just because she could. “I'll tell you later. I was just asking Robin something about his boss.”

“Regina? What'd you want to know about her?”

“It's complicated. But I _will_ explain, I promise. Let's enjoy the night with our friends?”

Killian grinned. “Fair enough.” He pulled Emma close, hugging her. She buried her head in his shoulder, feeling the lingering tension from meeting his friends going out of her. She felt completely safe in his arms. “Better, darling?”

Emma smiled into his chest. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

“Unless Will and Elsa kill each other.”

“She did appear to be in a fit state earlier. Do I want to know?”

“The usual. No big deal.” At least she hoped not.

“Perhaps we should go check on them then.” They each grabbed a drink and headed out in the direction of all the voices. No one was shouting so that was a good sign.

Emma came up short when she saw them. Roland was busy, playing happily with his new toy, oblivious to the adults. Robin waited by the grill, a bemused expression on his face. Will and Elsa, on the other hand, sat across from each other at the picnic table, having a heated but civil discussion. Will was gesturing wildly with his hands and Elsa was trying not to laugh at him. When she made her counterpoint, it was quiet but firm, actually trying to reason with him.

“How long have they been like that?” Emma asked Robin.

“A good while now, lass. And Will's still sober.”

“Isn't that interesting,” Killian said, chuckling. “Come on, let's go see if we can mediate.” He tugged on Emma's hand, leading her over to their friends.

“But it's a bloody _puck_ , lass,” Will was saying. “How can they even see it? I'll bet it hurts like the dickens too.”

“It's black, Will. It stands out on the ice. Why do you think they were so much padding?”

Emma sat down, confused as to what they'd stumbled in on. “Sorry, but  _what_ are you two even talking about?”

“The merits of hockey over soccer,” Elsa said matter of factly.

“I've told you,” Will groused. “It's _football_. Bloody Yanks.”

“You know the word soccer was used by the English first,” Elsa pointed out. “Besides, we need to distinguish it from _our_ football.”

“Are you hearing this, mate?” Will cried to Killian. “Not bloody football. Honestly.”

“She's not wrong, you know. I do it sometimes too, especially when I go to the games.”

“Oh, you've been to the University of Hawaii games?” Elsa asked eagerly.

“Aye. They're pretty good. It's a nice way to spend a Saturday.”

“How do you even know about hockey?” Emma asked Elsa. The Elsa she knew wasn't a big sports fan.

“My sister's dating an actual NHL player, remember? I've been to few of their games. It's hard not to absorb _something._ ”

“Oh. Okay.”

“So we're supposed ta take the word of a _hanger on?_ ” Will demanded. “Fantastic. I'm tellin' ya, it's not a sport.”

“They play it in England, you know. Do those people think it's not a sport?”

“It was invented by _Canadians_ ,” Will said stubbornly.

“Because Canada is the root of all evil,” Emma joked.

“Could be,” Killian said. “Does it do anything there besides snow?”

With that, they were off, talking about the various English speaking countries and their sports. Robin came by with a few helpful anecdotes of his own as the best traveled of the group. It went better than Emma could have hoped, despite the rocky start with Will. When it was time to eat, she was surprised to see Will helping Elsa with her plate. Perhaps she'd been right before and he really was human. Deep, deep down.

Robin explained to Emma later that he'd grown rather fond of the American tradition of barbecuing and since she and Elsa were Americans, it seemed appropriate. For once Will made no complaints, diving into his burger with a gusto that surprised her. She admired how well the three Englishmen had adapted to their new home. She was grateful that Killian at least was here; she'd have never of met him otherwise.

After dinner, Robin put Roland to bed while the others cleaned up. Killian opened the wine, pouring them all a glass before moving into the den. “We usually watch matches in here,” he explained to Emma and Elsa. There was a large screen on the opposite wall. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Elsa perched in one of the chairs in the front, wine glass in her hand. Will flopped into a round bean bag chair in the corner, toeing off his boots like he owned the place.

“Don't mind him,” Killian whispered to Emma. “He always does that.” He guided them to the couch along the back wall, perfect for cuddling, she couldn't help but notice. They smiled at each other and clinked their glasses in a silent toast. Emma tucked her feet under her, sitting as close to Killian as she dared before the movie started. Once everyone was distracted, she'd scoot closer.

“Ah, there you all are,” Robin said, relieved. “I've got the movie all queued up.” He settled in the other armchair next to Elsa, punching some buttons on a remote. In moments, the lights went down and the screen was black. The familiar fanfare blared and the crawl to _Star Wars_ began.

Emma only half paid attention to the movie; Killian was far more interesting. She could tell he'd seen the movie many times, often mouthing the words as the characters spoke them. Emma joined him, whispering some of the dialogue into his ear, pleased when he shivered.

“Swan,” he hissed. His arm was around her, fingers digging possessively into the soft flesh of her arm.

“What?”

“You know what that does to me, you minx.”

“What? This?” She set her empty wine glass aside and leaned in to kiss his cheek, lips sliding back toward his ear. She licked the shell, adjusting her seat so she could reach him better. Killian let out a shuddering breath, his free hand pulling on the hem of her shirt.

Emma moved again, climbing directly into his lap, kissing him deeply. As fun as the evening had been, nothing compared to kissing him. Killian responded with enthusiasm, sucking her bottom lip, his hands in her hair.

“Oi! Get a room you two!” Will hollered.

Emma and Killian broke apart, laughing. After the movie was over...they did just that.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Killian tied off the _Jolly_ and wiped at his brow. It was nearly noon and he certainly was feeling it. He stood by the dock for a few minutes, taking in the cool breeze from the ocean. After spending a _very_ pleasant night with Emma, he'd had to go out and check his traps. Emma wanted to come along, but he insisted she sleep. She looked so cute curled up in his bed, wearing still another of his shirts, green eyes sleepy. So he'd kissed her temple and slipped out quietly.

After collecting his data, he didn't want to think anymore about his thesis. He'd made some good progress on it, but he thought he deserved a break. And spending the entire weekend with his Swan seemed like a good start.

He climbed in his Jeep and tossed his backpack into the back. He pulled out his phone and dialed, thinking he'd grab them some lunch before heading home.

“Hey you,” Emma said. Killian could almost _hear_ her smile and it elicited one of his own.

“Have a pleasant lie in, love?”

She chuckled. “Yeah. But I would have gone with you, you know.”

“I know. I just like the idea of you sleeping in my bed.”

“I thought you liked me doing _other_ things in your bed?”

“I'm a man of many interests, Swan.”

“Guess it's a good thing our...interests line up so well, huh?”

“Indeed it is. Would you like me to grab something for lunch? I'm on my way home.” He had to admit that coming home to her was something that he looked forward to far more than he should. In a dark corner of his mind, he wondered what it would be like to carve out a _real_ home with her, a space that was neither his nor hers, but _theirs_. Which, given the relatively brief time they'd been together, was crazy. But he still wanted it. A place where they could live together, entertain their friends, perhaps have a family?

Good lord, he really was losing it.

But he'd seen Emma with Roland. They hadn't come anywhere near talking about it, but he suspected that the idea of children wasn't completely out of the question. Not that he'd ever speak of it.

For now, he just wanted to enjoy what they had, because it was pretty damn good.

“That sounds great,” Emma replied.

“Fancy anything in particular?”

“Surprise me,” she said with a laugh.

“Very well.” They hung up and Killian pulled out into traffic. He swung by his favorite Chinese place and grabbed them some lunch, the passenger seat of his Jeep filled with cartons. It was probably too much, but if they had leftovers then that was more than fine with him. He was a champion at making food last. When he got home, it took some trickery to get the cartons up to his place, but he managed it. Unfortunately, he didn't have any hands to open the door. So he had to knock with his elbow.

The door swung open with Emma looking confused. “Killian?” Her eyes widened as she took in his lopsided grin and full arms. “Got enough?” she teased, reaching out to help him. She took several of the cartons into her arms, then let him inside. “It smells great.”

“These are from the best Chinese place in town,” Killian boasted. “I'm sure you'll love it, Swan.”

“Right now I think I could eat a horse,” she quipped, arranging her cartons on Killian's coffee table. He noticed her laptop was open; he hadn't even known she had it.

“Keeping busy, were you, love?” he asked, settling in next to her.

She blushed. “Yeah. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your wifi.”

“Not at all. Would this have anything to do with that mysterious conversation you had with Robin last night?”

“Actually, it does. But let's eat first. Then I'll show you.” She moved to head for the kitchen, but Killian gently tugged on her wrist, pulling her back to him. He smiled at her, leaning in for a kiss. Her lips were warm and soft as she smiled into it, humming happily as she wove her fingers into his hair. He followed her lead, loving the feel of her silken strands between his fingers.

“Hmm, you showered, lass,” he said, breaking the kiss. “You smell like me.”

“That a bad thing?” she asked, rubbing her nose over his cheek.

“Definitely not, but I am rather fond of the way _you_ smell.” She had a sweet sunflower scent that he loved; so often it was the first thing he noticed when they woke up together.

“Some people would think that's creepy.”

“Do you?”

She pressed her lips firmly to his. “Nah. I think it's kinda sweet.”

“Only kind of?”

Emma grinned, tugging sharply on his hair. “Don't press your luck, buddy.” She disentangled herself and headed for the kitchen. She came back quickly with napkins and paper plates, just in case.

“I got a little bit of everything, since I didn't know what you liked,” Killian said, opening up a few of them. “You _do_ like Chinese food, right?” He sometimes forgot how much they still had to learn about each other.

“Could I be from NewYork and not like it?” Emma teased, elbowing him in the ribs. “Yeah, I love it actually.”

Killian let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. There were still times he worried about disappointing her, like she'd realize how different they were and head home. “Does that make you handy with some chop sticks then?”

“Watch and learn, babe. Watch and learn.” Emma snatched up a set of chop sticks and dove into the first carton she could grab. Killian tried to ignore the way his heart beat just a little bit faster as he registered the term of endearment. She'd never done that before, and he didn't want to call her out. Besides, it was adorable.

Emma wielded the chop sticks like an extension of her fingers, shoveling some noodles into her mouth. “Hmm, this is good,” she said, working to swallow.

“I'm glad you like it.” Killian grabbed a carton of his own, his stomach growling. They shared cartons back and forth, laughing and teasing. It felt so good to just hang out and enjoy each other's company. Emma had a very dry sense of humor, could find irony in almost anything. It was just something else he loved about her.

“So my mom says, 'Yeah, you're a real Prince Charming!'”

Killian laughed. “So let me get this straight. Your parents first met because she tried to  _cheat_ off him when they were in school?”

Emma nodded. “Yep. Russian history, I think it was. Spelling's not really her strong suit.”

“But he didn't turn her in?”

“No. Instead, he convinced their professor to let them team up on an extra credit project. When they passed, my mom asked him out. They've been together ever since.”

“It's strangely...sweet?”

“Like me spilling coffee on you?”

“Or me getting grease your bags?”

“Good point. We're quite a pair, aren't we?”

“I like to think so,” he replied, nudging her with his shoulder.

She smiled at him, reaching over and threading their fingers together. “I did not expect you when I came here, Killian. But I'm glad that you're here.”

It was the closest she'd ever come to telling him the words he so desperately wanted to hear. He returned her soft smile, cupping her chin with his free hand. He thumbed the cute dent in her chin, before gently pulling her in for a kiss. A sigh rumbled in his throat, still kissing her, her hand tightening in his.

She pulled away, resting her forehead on his. “Damn you're good at that.”

“You're not so bad yourself, darling.”

Emma kissed the tip of his nose, then straightened up. “There's something I've been meaning tell you for a while. Now's as good a time as any, I guess.”

“What's going on, Swan?” He tried to keep the tremor out of his voice. Surely it wasn't anything bad. She wouldn't share happy stories and affection if she was going to leave him.

“It's nothing bad, so stop worrying,” she said with a knowing smile. “At least I hope not.”

“You're not making sense, love.”

“I know. I just...remember when I told you why I came here?”

Killian cocked his head. “Aye. Something about getting your parents to take you seriously?”

“Yeah.” She reached for the sleeping laptop. “I think I might have found something...because of you.”

“Me? I'm afraid I didn't do anything, Emma.”

Emma smirked. “Believe me, you did.” She handed him her laptop, scrolling over the touch pad. “I'd like you to read it and tell me what you think. Honestly. I can take it.”

Killian nodded, even though he was still somewhat confused. There was a Word document open with a colorful title page featuring a few of the pictures Emma had taken on their sailing trip. He scrolled to the next page, headed:  _Hooking the Future: A Proposal._ He smiled at her title, suspecting where she'd gotten it from. He kept reading, getting more interested—and impressed—as he went. Emma, it seemed, had gotten it in her head to try and solve the funding and research problem for the reserves in archipelago. Basing it on a similar project in Florida, she proposed a non-profit that could coordinate between the various reserves, directing money and resources to where it was needed most. Especially for staff and equipment.

It was a huge project, very ambitious. But knowing his Swan, he couldn't say he was surprised. Emma wasn't really one for doing things halfway.

“Swan, this is...” Killian scratched behind his ear. “Love, when I said you should start small, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind.”

Emma bit her lip. “Do you think I've bitten off more than I can chew?”

“Honestly?” Emma nodded. “I don't know. Possibly? I mean, there's politics involved. Not to mention, the capital to even get this off the ground. But you do have some excellent ideas.”

“Well, I was thinking about that last thing.” She glanced out the window, then back. “I think I can convince my dad to make an initial investment. I wanted to see what you thought before I showed it to him.”

“Emma, you know how much money we're talking about, right?” Millions of dollars, at least. He knew her family was well off, but it seemed like a stretch that her father would just...give her that much money for something unproven.

Emma nodded, seriously. “I've got a degree in business, remember?”

“I'm not doubting your education, love.”

“I was also thinking that if we could show him there was interest, that it was viable, then that would help. Dad hasn't gotten to where he is by playing it safe, you know?”

“But how?”

Emma cocked her head. “What about a fundraiser? Like an exposition? If we could get some of my family's friends here, that would be good publicity. And perhaps draw in some more investors.” She smiled, her eyes lighting up. “Maybe a themed event. The Crocodile has space for that, right?”

“Aye, there's some convention space, a ballroom. It's popular in the winter; corporations hosting an event away from their cold offices.”

“That's what I was talking to Robin about. To see if he thought Regina Mills would go for something like that.”

Killian let out a low whistle. “Seems you've given this a  _lot_ of thought. This is really important to you, isn't it?”

Emma took the laptop back. “Is that so strange?”

Killian shook his head. “I may not have known you for very long, Swan, but I've never doubted your passion. If this is important to you, then I'll help you in any way I can.”

Emma smiled, clearly relieved. It hit him like a punch in the gut that she'd almost expected him to call her out again, to be angry. It made him ashamed all over again for his boorish behavior. “Getting me some contact info for the reserves would be a great start.”

“Aye, I can do that.” He glanced away, then reached over and took her hand. “You know we'll have to be more careful, don't you?” If she was going to be working closely with Regina's office then he would have to make himself scarce. They couldn't been seen together. Not within shouting distance of the resort anyway.

Emma squeezed his hand. “I know. But I think we can do both. I want to be with you, Killian. You're very important to me, okay?”

He smiled, a little ball of relief opening in his chest. “I've always understood the risk, love. I'm not giving up on us.”

Emma set her laptop aside and smiled his favorite smile. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him soundly, her thumbs rubbing his cheekbones. “You are the best, you know that?”

“Well, I do try, my love.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Cocky bastard.”

“Perhaps you should do something about that if you don't like it.”

“Who says I don't like it?” She bit her lip, then gracefully hoisted herself into his lap. Killian immediately settled his hands on her hips, fingers sliding up under her shirt. She was warm and soft; he could feel her shiver. “Maybe I really, really _like_ it.”

“Not enough cocky bastards in your life?”

“Hmm, I think I only need one.” She closed the small distance, lips brushing his. Lightly, delicately, almost like a whisper. She kept it up, over and over, pressing a bit harder each pass; the tender tease making his heart race. She stroked his scruff, scratching lightly, tingles shooting down his spine. It never took much to get him going; the smallest touch from her could drive him crazy.

“Emma...”

She hummed, rubbing his nose with hers. “Shhh. Let me have this?”

He brought one hand up to her face. “You may have whatever you wish. I'm yours, Emma.”

He almost thought she was going to cry, but she just smiled. She went back to kissing him, pulling away every time he tried to deepen it. She moved to his cheek, his nose, his eyelids. He let her rain kisses over his face, while he stroked her lower back. He knew how much she loved the feel of his hands on her skin. He let out a sound very like a  _purr_ as she massaged his scalp, a feeling of deep contentment settling in his chest.

“You sound like a happy cat,” she murmured with a chuckle.

“You're very good at that, lass.”

“I'm good at a lot of things.”

“Oh, I am well aware.”

“I wonder if you like this.” Emma rubbed her cheek against his, his scruff rubbing and scratching her skin. She moved lower, nose and lips teasing his neck, his Adam's apple. Killian groaned when she licked the hollow of his throat, his hands sliding down to her ass. He squeezed the globes through the thin fabric, pleased when he heard Emma moan.

“Swan...” He ducked his head, capturing her lips again, wanting to kiss the life out of her. Emma ran her fingers through his hair, probably making it stick up everywhere, sucking his tongue into her mouth. They both moaned, Killian tightening his hold on her. “You are...” God, he was _so_ close. The words were _right there._ “I am...”

Emma pulled back a little, looking into his eyes. “I am too, Killian. My happy cat,” she said with scrunch of her nose.

He was relieved that she broke the tension. One day  _soon_ , he was just going to blurt it out. “I am  _not_ a cat.”

“Maybe not. But you are mine.”

“Aye. For as long as you'll have me.”

The light that shone out of her eyes made up for the words neither of them were saying. Because he could see it. He could  _feel_ it. For the first time, he didn't doubt that she loved him.

* * *

“We should go out,” Emma said, stroking his forearm. His chest was against her back, their legs tangled together as they lay stretched out on his couch. They were supposed to be watching a movie, but she'd lost interest quickly. It was hard to focus on anything but how _warm_ Killian was, how he made her shiver all the same.

It wasn't a feeling she was used to, the constant wanting.

But she didn't want that to be  _all_ they had. They had fun together, more fun than Emma had had in a long time.

“What would you like to do, Swan?” She felt his lips brush the crown of her head, his nose get buried in her hair.

She gave him an awkward shrug. “I'm not sure. You have any ideas?”

Killian laughed. “Many, but most don't include going out.”

Emma turned in his arms. “Ha, ha. Maybe if you're very good, we can do some of those later.”

“I guess it's a good thing I don't have to work tomorrow then, eh?”

“You can have me all to yourself tomorrow, I promise.”

He grinned. “Very well. Shall we go out for a drink then? Perhaps at a more  _disreputable_ establishment?” He tugged on the ends of her hair teasingly.

“More disreputable than Granny's?”

“Aye. Perhaps we'll get caught in a dark corner or two?”

“Or maybe I'll kick your ass at pool.”

“Or perhaps I'll drink you under the table.”

Emma's brows shot up. “But I can't give you what you want if you're drunk,” she countered. Her hand drifted over his crotch, but barely skimming the denim. “That's no fun.”

His eyes darkened a fraction, his hand threading through her hair. “Only pleasantly tispy, lass. I definitely want to hold you to your promise.” He leaned in and kissed her; it was nearly chaste until his teeth nipped at her lower lip.

Good lord, he was overwhelming. But Emma was no shrinking violet. The corners of her mouth twitched before she kissed him again, harder, hungrier, humming against his lips as he molded her to the planes of his chest. She loved being this close to him.

“Stop trying to distract me,” she mock complained when they broke for air.

Emma felt his low rumble against her chest. “I believe you kissed me, sweetheart.”

“You started it.”

“You just demand to be kissed,” he said, eyes flickering to her lips, his thumb tracing them. “Thought so from the moment I met you.”

She didn't know what to say to that. So she let her actions speak for her, kissing him firmly. She really could spend all of her time kissing him. But they were going  _out_ . “Come on,” she said with a smile. “Let's go out and get caught in one of those dark corners.” Then he could kiss her to his heart's content.

“As you wish.” He stroked her cheek fleetingly before letting her go. Emma moved to stand, calculating which of her clothes were currently at his place. “Shall we invite Will and Elsa, love? Might be fun.”

Emma looked at him, confused. “Why?” Sure, they'd been civil at Robin's but she didn't think they could stand each other. Not if Elsa's grousing texts were any indication.

“You mean you didn't notice?”

“Notice what?”

Killian stood. “Swan, I've not seen Will that...entranced by a lass...well, ever, honestly.”

“That was entranced? You're kidding, right?”

“You really didn't date much before, did you?”

“Hey!” Emma swatted at his shoulder. “That's not really helping your case, since I'm dating _you_.”

“I'm telling you, there's a spark there. I saw it.”

“And you're an expert then? I seem to recall you not dating much either.”

“Aye, but I know my friend. He likes her.”

“Killian, he can't stand _me_. Why would he suddenly develop a crush on Elsa?”

Killian cupped her cheek. “We rarely have control over who we are attracted to, love. We know that better than most.”

Okay, point taken. But that didn't mean he was right about Will. “Fifty bucks says you're wrong.”

He grinned. “A wager, then? Very well. End of the summer.”

“But...”

“Ah, ah, you have to allow things to develop, Swan. Not everyone shares our...lack of restraint.”

Emma laughed, remembering that night on the sea wall. She really had wanted him from the very beginning. “Self control is overrated.”

“Indeed.”

So Killian called Will, while Emma phoned Elsa. Elsa, for her part, was thrilled to join them; Emma felt a twinge of guilt over how they'd ditched her after the party at Robin's. Even though Elsa had insisted, happy to see Emma happy. Emma gave Elsa the address for the bar and promised to see her there before hanging up.

Task completed, she rummaged through piles of clothes—his and hers—looking for something suitable to wear. She figured it was a pretty casual place so she could improvise. Besides, she knew that her wearing his clothes always drove him crazy. She opted for the shortest jean shorts she had, paired with a camisole and one of Killian's plaid shirts. She rolled up the sleeves and tied off the bottom, leaving only one or two buttons done up. While she was holed up in the bathroom, she thoroughly brushed her hair, bringing out its natural waves. Just a hint of make up and she was ready.

“Swan, have you seen my...” He trailed off when he saw her, his jaw dropping briefly, then swallowing heavily. “You look stunning, my love.”

Emma tried to play it down, even though it was precisely the reaction she was going for. She just liked the way he looked at her. “Disreputable enough for where we're going?”

“Aye.” His eyes traveled the length of her, lingering on her long legs and the hint of midriff at her waist. His appraising gaze made heat pool in her belly; she tried not to fidget. “My beautiful lass.”

“Were you looking for something?”

Killian tore his eyes from her, a frown marring his features. “My car keys. They're not where I left them.”

Emma helped him look, stooping under the makeshift coffee table. “Here they are,” she said triumphantly, holing them out to him. “We must have knocked them over.” The day before they'd gotten very... _enthusiastic_ with each other, banging into furniture in their rush to disrobe.

Killian didn't even blush. “Perhaps I should get a peg to hang them on from now on.”

“Maybe.” She doubted that would be the last time they nearly lost something in their desire to have each other. “Ready?”

“Aye.” Killian shoved his wallet into his pocket and led her out, pausing to lock up before heading down to the Jeep. Emma fiddled with the radio as they drove, scanning the stations. To her surprise, she found a classical station, pausing when she heard one of Mozart's concertos.

“I didn't know you liked classical music, love,” Killian observed.

“One of the few things I get from my mother,” she said, leaning back to listen. “I can change it if you want though.”

“No, it's fine. I was merely curious.”

Emma let the song play for a while, humming the melody. “I like all kinds of music,” she explained. “But I always come back to this. Reminds me of when my life didn't suck so much.”

“Does your life suck now?”

Emma turned to look at him. “No. It's pretty great actually. And I have hope that'll get even better.”

They arrived at the bar twenty minutes later. It really was out of the way; Emma was pretty sure they were in the next town over. The lot faced the ocean; she could just make out the waves breaking over the other ambient noise. The scent of smoke assaulted her nose the moment they stepped inside; it stung her eyes. Killian's hand remained firmly on the small of her back as he guided her up to the bar.

“What can I get ya?” A young man about their age asked.

“Beer for me,” Killian said. “Emma?”

She blinked to clear her vision. “Rum and coke, please.” The bartender nodded headed off to make their drinks.

“No fruity umbrella concoctions, darling?”

Emma shook her head, gradually becoming accustomed to the atmosphere. “Hell no. I learned my lesson.”

“What lesson?” Emma grinned when she heard Elsa's voice.

“To not mix alcohol.”

Elsa laughed. She looked very stylish in her thin cashmere top and short skirt. Her white blonde hair was pulled back in a braid that settled over her shoulder. “I have a vague memory of that being quite unpleasant.”

“I was nervous,” Emma said defensively. “It was our second date.”

“And everyone knows what happens on the second date.” All three heads turned to see Will Scarlet striding over to them, a drink already in his hand. “Not that you're that kind of girl, lass,” he finished charitably.

“Will,” Killian said warningly.

“What? For me, that's practically a compliment!”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Are we gonna find out what kind of a drunk you are tonight, Will? Cuz I'm betting you're a mean one.”

“Well, then you'd be wrong, lass. You'll see.” He doffed his drink at her and downed a good bit of it. The bartender returned with Emma and Killian's drinks, then went to get Will a refill and Elsa some wine.

“I'm surprised they have wine here,” Elsa whispered to Emma as they all moved to a table. She took a sip, then made a face. “It's not especially good though.”

“Killian called this place _disreputable_ ,” Emma replied. “But alcohol is alcohol, I guess.”

Emma mostly listened as the conversation flowed. She kept an eye on Will and Elsa, wondering if Killian was right. She still didn't see anything; indeed, they got into another “discussion” only this time it was about alcohol. Will didn't seem especially nasty or anything, just very opinionated, which she had first hand experience with. Killian kept one hand on Emma's knee the entire time, squeezing lightly when he smiled at her.

Emma looked around; there was a pool table in the corner, complete with a stained glass tea lamp. There were some older men gathered around it, already playing a game. In the other corner was a small stage and...a karaoke machine? Holy shit, it  _was_ a karaoke machine.

“Hey guys,” Emma found herself saying. “Did we know this place has a karaoke machine?”

“It does?” Elsa asked, craning her neck to see.

“You do karaoke?” Killian asked.

“I didn't say that,” Emma replied hastily. “I just didn't expect it.”

“Afraid, lass?” Will asked.

“I don't sing.”

Elsa frowned at her. “I always thought you sang rather well.”

Emma shook her head. “Nope. Killian can though. He's really good.”

“Swan...”

“You catch 'im singing in the shower, lass?”

“Bugger off, Scarlet.”

She didn't even want to know how Will came up with  _that._ “Do  _you_ sing?” she shot back at Will.

“Not a lick. But 'm not a coward either.” He slammed his tumbler down on the table and went to fetch the book of songs. He flipped through it almost carelessly, but Emma saw his eyes. He was really looking, hoping to find the perfect song. Emma exchanged looks with Killian and Elsa, but they said nothing. Song acquired, Will stalked off to the stage and waited for his song to load. He swayed just a little, clearly tipsy, but when the song started his voice was steady, if off key.

The three of them watched and listened; Killian was trying not to laugh. It took Emma a few moments to recognize the song; it was “You Need Me, I Don't Need You” by Ed Sheeran. Not one of Emma's favorites, but given what she knew about Will, it made sense. Will was practically shouting by the time it was over; it was the most emotional Emma had ever seen him.

“Still afraid, lass?” Will said when he returned.

Emma shrugged noncommittally. Killian nudged her shoulder. “What do you say, love? Shall we do one together?”

“Together? You don't want to sing with me, Killian.” Christ, she'd only embarrass herself. And she wasn't nearly drunk enough.

“I want to do everything with you, Emma.” He gave her his best puppy eyes. “Please?”

Holy lord, she was helpless against that look. She tried to hold out, but it didn't take her long to cave. “Okay.  _One_ song. But when our ears are bleeding, don't say I didn't warn you.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic, Emma,” Elsa chided. “It's just karaoke. Not Carnegie Hall.”

“See? Even Elsa agrees. Live a little, Swan.”

“Shut up and give me the book, you. And go get me a drink. I'm gonna need it.”

Killian kissed the top of her head as he stood to go back to the bar, laughing.

“You shouldn't be so hard on him, Emma,” Elsa said, leaning over Emma's shoulder.

“I wasn't hard on him, trust me.”

“If you say so.” They looked through the book, finally finding the section with duets. Emma weighed the options, wondering what on earth was possessing her to do this. Other people seemed to be following Will's lead, song after dreadful song being sung. “What about this one?” Elsa asked.

Emma looked down to where she was pointing. It was “Summer Nights” from  _Grease_ . “Ha, ha, very funny, Elsa.” That might be a little too on the nose for Emma's taste. Besides, there was a song she liked better. “What about this one?”

Elsa grinned at her. “I think that's an excellent choice.”

Emma felt a jolt of excitement shoot down her spine. It was entirely possible this would go horribly wrong, but who cared? They didn't know anyone there. And she kinda wanted to see Killian's face when he saw what she'd chosen. She hurried up to the machine and entered the song in the queue.

“What are we singing, lass?” Killian asked when he returned with her drink.

“It's a surprise.”

“Hmm, I love surprises.” He smiled, catching her around the waste, kissing her soundly. Will made a loud gagging sound, but Elsa just beamed at them. Emma pushed at his shoulder playfully, but it had no weight. Even in a very public bar, she simply loved being held by him. She took a healthy sip of her drink, arm wrapped around him as they waited their turn. Killian drew tiny circles on her hip, soothing her, as if he could feel her lingering tension. “Ready?”

Emma put down her drink. “Yeah, let's do it.” She smiled at him as they went up to the stage hand in hand. They let go to grab their mics, exchanging giddy nervous glances. Emma saw the moment he recognized the song she'd chosen, his eyes locking with hers knowingly.

“Grease, Swan?”

“You've seen it, right?”

“Aye.” He took her hand and spun her around, just as the song was beginning. Then she stood back and let him start. As the first strains of “You're the One that I Want” came out of his mouth, Emma was just flabbergasted. He'd been holding out on her, just a bit. For someone who didn't like singing in public, he just let 'er rip, staring right into her eyes as he sang the first verse.

She was so caught up in it that she almost missed her cue, doing her less impressive Olivia Newton John impression. But Killian didn't seem to mind, nodding at her encouragingly. She found herself smiling, settling into a give and take with him that was heady and thrilling. They didn't sound half bad together.

At the end of the song there was loud applause and Emma blushed. Killian would have none of it, kissing her briefly just before they relinquished the stage. He said something, but it was so loud that she missed it. She squeezed his hand, leading him back toward their table. Will looked stunned, Elsa proud. Emma hugged her friend before snatching up her drink.

“See? You two were great,” Elsa enthused.

Both of them blushed, Killian more than Emma. “What do you think, Swan? Shall we do another?”

Emma could still feel the rush lingering in her veins. “Sure. You pick this time.” She excused herself to duck into the bathroom. When she looked into the mirror—which was kinda dingy, to be honest—she was surprised how happy she appeared. Her lip gloss had long since worn off, but other than that she practically _glowed_ with happiness. She smiled at her reflection and washed up. She was headed back to their table when a hand curled around her wrist.

She only tensed for a moment, then she recognized Killian's low rumble. “And just where do you think you're going?”

“I thought we were gonna sing again.”

“We are, but we've got some time, lass.” He tugged a bit harder and she turned; he leaned back against the paneled wall, deep in the shadows. “I think we've earned some alone time, don't you?”

Emma grinned. She had promised him they'd get lost in a dark corner. And here they were. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Hi there.”

“Hello, lass.” He cradled her head, and drew her in for a kiss. Emma hummed happily, tongue skimming the seam of his lips, diving in when he opened for her. Her hand came down to tangle in his shirt, fisting the fabric, pressing her hips into his. One of Killian's hands slid down her spine, shoved roughly into the back pocket of her too short shorts, kneading the swell of her ass. Emma moaned, nipping sharply on his lip.

“I can't wait to get you home, love,” he murmured, kissing her jaw. “And have my way with you.”

“Hmm, yes, please.” She kissed him again, tugging lightly on his hair. “We should get back.”

“Aye.” He stole one last kiss (and a grope, which she did not mind at _all_ ), then let her go. They were a little flushed as they headed back, but the dim light hid it fairly well. Emma was surprised that Will was taking another turn at karaoke when they got back. Elsa was staring at him with a mixture of fascination and pity on her face, ignoring them completely.

When Will finished, it was their turn again. Emma was more confident this time, enjoying herself immensely. The mixture of alcohol, adrenaline and _Killian_ was incredible, boosting her confidence. This time when they left the stage Emma caught a couple of jealous glances sent her way, but she ignored them. She knew Killian only had eyes for _her._

Elsa had helpfully gotten them a couple tall glasses of ice water; Emma downed about half of hers in one go. But it would keep her head clear, despite the faint buzz of alcohol. She didn't want to ruin their time when they got home.

“What should we do now?” Elsa asked.

“You're not going to take a turn, lass?” Killian asked.

Elsa shook her head. “Oh no. I really don't sing.” The fact was she _did_ and Emma knew it. But she also knew that Elsa was painfully self conscious about it.

“How 'bout a round of pool?” Will asked, looking remarkably alert despite how much he'd consumed. “Everyone does that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Emma said. “Teams maybe?”

“Emma's on my team,” Elsa said instantly. Killian balked, but Elsa just laughed. “Gotta be quicker, Killian. We'll switch later, okay?” He pouted but nodded. Emma rolled her eyes at him, ridiculous man.

The pool table was clear now, since most people were either drinking or watching the karaoke. Will racked up the balls, letting everyone else get a cue. The boys graciously allowed the ladies to break, and Emma bent over the table to take her shot. She made sure to do it in front of Killian, knowing her shorts would ride up. They may not be on the same team right now, but that didn't mean she couldn't torment him. One of the blue striped balls fell into a side pocket with a satisfying clunk. “Looks like we're stripes, Els.”

Elsa surveyed the table. “Shouldn't be a problem.”

“Played pool before, have ya?” Will asked derisively.

Elsa smiled. “Something like that.”

What the boys didn't know was that Elsa had a pool table in her family's penthouse. Emma and Elsa spent a _lot_ of time playing from the time they could reach the table. As the ladies sunk ball after ball, Emma could see Will getting more and more frustrated. Killian just smiled, not at all surprised.

“If I didn't know better, lass,” Killian whispered in her ear, “I'd think you were a pool shark, love.”

“Maybe I was in another life,” she whispered back. “Your turn.” She tried to remain unfazed when his shirt rode up, exposing his lower back. And god, his ass looked fantastic in those pants. Emma reached blindly for her drink—another rum and coke—and nearly dropped it. She had a feeling they were going to be up for a long time when they got home.

In the end, Emma and Elsa won the first game; Elsa sinking the 8 ball into the upper right pocket. Killian went to fetch them all another round, as Will racked the balls again. This game was fun in a different way since Emma and Killian were working _together_ instead of against each other. But it did give them some time to cuddle in between turns, which was nice.

“One more,” Will said, when the second game finished. He had yet to be on a winning team.

“Okay, I'm gonna run to the bathroom. Be right back.” Emma hurried off, knowing the sooner the game started, the sooner she and Killian could go home. She was on her way back when her wrist got grabbed again. “Killian, we're gonna be home soon,” she began as she turned around. Then she inhaled sharply and her eyes widened in disbelief.

It wasn't Killian.

“I never pegged you for anything so low brow, Emma,” the voice she never really wanted to hear again drawled. “What would your mother say?”

Emma snatched back her arm, scowling. “She'd say that restraining orders can just as easily be gotten in Hawaii as in New York.”

“Is that any way to talk to an old friend?” Neal was smiling—why she couldn't fathom, if looks could kill he'd already be dead—reaching up to brush her hair back. Emma instantly stepped back, a wave of revulsion crashing through her.

“We are not friends, Neal,” she hissed. “I don't think we ever were.”

“No, we were much more than that and you know it. Come on, don't you miss me? Just a little?”

“Let me think. Hell and no.”

Neal grabbed her shoulder, tugging on Killian's plaid shirt. “Hanging out with the riffraff now? How sad.”

Emma smacked him hard across the face. “Don't you _ever_ say anything like that again. I hate you. Why can't you get that through your head?”

Neal held a hand to his cheek; she hoped it hurt. “You are such a bitch, Emma.”

“Why, because I managed to see right through you? Why are you even here anyway?”

“My father owns the resort near here. He asked me to do its yearly inspection. I had heard a rumor you were here; I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone.”

A trickle of fear and dread seeped down Emma's spine. There was only one resort in the area. It had never occurred to her that it might be one of Robert Gold's properties. That was just great. On the other hand...she might be able to use it to her advantage. But she could worry about that later.

“Stalking me now?” she shot back.

“I was hoping we could work things out,” he said, his voice cajoling. She knew that voice, the one he used to try and control her and make it sound like _her_ idea. The bastard.

“Everything okay here?” Emma let out a silent sigh of relief when she heard Killian's voice. She could handle Neal, but it was nice to know she wasn't alone.

“Not really, no,” she said. “But I was just leaving.”

“Emma?” Elsa's voice was concerned. Then she let out a snarl, a sound Emma had never heard before. “Neal! What the _hell_ are you doing here? Get out!”

Killian exchanged a look with Emma, but remained silent. She tried to tell him with her eyes that it was okay, but she saw his jaw clench threateningly.

“It's a free country, Elsa,” Neal shot back. “Ever all the way out here.”

“I believe the lady asked ya to leave, _mate_.” Emma was stunned to hear Will's voice join them, as he stood on Elsa's other side. Neal seemed to shrink, the weight of the four of them sapping his so called courage. He really was an ass.

“Go on, Neal,” Emma said. “Surely you have somewhere _else_ to be.”

Neal scowled at her, but started to move. “Drinks are piss here anyway,” he muttered as he left. Emma was even more flabbergasted to see him pick up his _date—_ who was not his girlfriend Mulan—and head out the door. The asshole hadn't even paid his tab.

“Unbelievable.”

Killian moved to stand in front of her. “Are you alright, love?” He gently stroked her cheek, his anger fading.

She leaned into his touch. “Yeah. I just can't believe he was _here_.”

“Why though?” Elsa asked. “It doesn't make sense.”

“Well, to stalk me for one,” Emma said angrily. “Can you believe he wanted me to give him another chance?”

“Didn't he just leave here with a lass?” Will asked.

Emma snickered. “Yeah, and that wasn't his supposed girlfriend either. What an ass.”

“But you've hardly given him the time of day for two years,” Elsa said worriedly. “Why now?”

“That was only because I threatened him with a restraining order. Who knows what goes on in his demented brain? Like father, like son, I guess.” The boys didn't understand that reference, but she was too wired to explain. “I know we were gonna play another game, but can we have a rain check? I kinda want to go home.” She wanted to go home and let Killian make her forget that Neal even existed. For a little while.

“Of course, love,” Killian said. He kissed her temple, then went to close out their tab.

Elsa hugged Emma. “You call if you need anything, okay? I'll be back at the bungalow. I think I'll call Anna and see if she knows what's going on.”

“Would you mind getting some of my stuff together? I don't want to stay in the bungalow while _he's_ here.” Neal didn't know Killian, or where he lived, she'd feel much better at his apartment. The idea that she was giving Robert Gold—and by extension his son—some of her money made her skin crawl.

“Of course, Emma. I can bring it by Killian's tomorrow if you want.”

“That would be great.”

Killian came back, his arm going round her waist. “Ready, Swan?”

“Yeah.” They all left together, Emma and Killian saying their good nights as he helped her into the Jeep. She was perfectly capable of doing it herself, but she didn't mind the extra attention. Seeing Neal had rattled her in a way she hadn't expected.

The drive back to Killian's was quiet, but he kept a hold of her hand the entire way. She was grateful that he wasn't pushing her to talk; Neal was the last thing she wanted to focus on at the moment. She wasn't the person she'd been when she was with him; she wasn't going to let him get to her. She was with Killian now and he loved her.

“Home sweet home,” Killian quipped quietly as they stepped through the door to his apartment.

Emma smiled. “Yeah, it kinda is.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight, appreciating his solid presence. She buried her nose in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. It was familiar and soothing, salty and musky at the same time.

“Are you sure you're alright, lass?”

“I am now.” She pulled her head up and looked at him. “Thanks.”

“I didn't do anything, Swan.”

“You're _here_. And that's all I really need right now. You.” She cupped his cheek and kissed him, needing that spark, that _connection_ they'd always had. Killian instinctively tightened his hold on her, pulling her flush against him. Emma kissed him harder, mewling softly, her body coming to life.

“Emma, love, are you...”

She nodded. “Yeah. I need _you_. I need us, okay?”

He thumbed her cheekbone. “Aye. Seeing the way he looked at you...it wasn't pleasant, darling.”

Emma shivered. “No one is here except you and me. And I want _you_ , Killian. Only you.”

She hardly had a chance to suck in a breath before he was kissing her, deeply, thoroughly. He hoisted her up and moved them over to the door, her back hitting it with a soft thud. His hands stayed under her thighs, kneading the flesh where her shorts ended. Emma wrapped her legs around his waist tightly, dragging him to her. She ground her hips into his; she could feel him hardening, growing between her legs. He broke their kiss, leaving her panting, his lips moving to her neck, sucking on her skin greedily.

“I'm going to mark you, Swan,” he growled, licking her fluttering pulse. “You're _mine_.”

A wave of _want_ rolled through her, settling at the apex of her thighs. “Please,” she whined. She angled her head, giving him better access, mewling as his teeth scraped her skin. Her back arched as she fisted his hair, stoking the fire in her belly. A fire that would burn the unpleasant end to their evening right out of her.

She pulled on his shirt, her body undulating between Killian and the door, which shook in its frame. “Shhh, lass,” Killian admonished. “Don't want to get interrupted, do we?” Frankly she was surprised Killian's neighbor's hadn't complained yet; they weren't exactly quiet when they had sex.

“Are you gonna tease me or fuck me?” Emma demanded.

“Both.” He deftly unbuttoned the few on his shirt, peeling it from her body. “I do love when you wear my clothes, lass.” He kissed a path over her collarbone, the thin strap of her camisole dropping to her arm. Emma dug her heels into his lower back, a loud moan tearing from her throat. She didn't even care; his lips on her skin was driving her crazy. Killian's mouth closed over her covered nipple, sucking on it through the fabric. “Christ, you've got nothing under this. Did you even bother with knickers?”

“Why don't you check and see?” she panted.

Killian growled again, rubbing his scruff over the swell of her breast. Emma groaned, shivering. It felt so good when he teased her with the scratch and burn of his scruff. He pulled the camisole down until it bunched around her waist, exposing her completely. “I'll bet you didn't,” he mumbled. “Such a naughty thing, you are.” He licked at one puckered peak, teasing her, a fresh wave of lush shooting through her. He teased her nipple until it was pink and tender, leaving another mark. Emma could hardly remember which way was up, which was exactly what she wanted. She wanted to forget everything except _him_.

Killian covered her mouth with his, kissing her tenderly, stealing her breath all the same. He disentangled her legs from his waist, pulling away only to draw his shirt over his head. Emma immediately brought her hands to his broad chest, watching him shiver when she flicked his nipples. “Bloody minx,” he muttered, his hands on her waist.

Emma just smiled, leaning in to kiss his skin. She followed the path down to the waistband of his pants, palming the impressive bulge there. Killian hissed, bracing his hands on the door. Emma looked up at his face; his eyes were locked on her, the irises nearly swallowed in black. Two could play this teasing game. She knelt in front of him, kissing and licking around his navel as she worked his pants open. She slipped her hand inside, giving him a firm stroke. “All this for me?” she asked, still teasing him.

“Aye. Only you, love,” he bit out. He rocked his hips into her hand, hoping for more friction. “Swan, please.”

Emma grinned, pushing his pants over his hips. Killian toed off his shoes and she finished stripping him, leaving him gloriously naked before her. She rolled back on her knees to admire him, the course hair, the lean muscles, the thick cock. She skimmed her hands up his legs until she palmed his balls, rolling them in her hand. Killian hissed and bucked, his body quivering with barely restrained desire. Emma rose up, lightly licking the underside of his cock, relishing his groan of satisfaction. She took him into her hand, stroking and twisting, bringing the head to her lips.

“Bloody hell,” Killian cursed, hips bucking into her hand. Emma took him into her mouth, opening wide, taking as much as she could. This was as much for him as for her, both of them needing the reminder that they belonged only to each other. She bobbed her head slowly, licking and swirling her tongue, teasing the sensitive spot just below the head. More curses tumbled from his lips, one hand tightening in her hair. She hollowed out her cheeks, sucking him in earnest until he begged her to stop. She released him with a soft pop, licking her lips.

Killian's harsh breathing filled the air as he tried to regain some semblance of control. “Get up here,” he panted, pulling a little on her hair.

Emma grinned smugly, rising to her feet. Killian pressed her back against the door, faster than she expected, crushing his mouth to hers. “Do you want me in you, love?” he asked, pulling on her shorts.

“Yes.” The ache between her legs was nearly unbearable. She brought his hands to the fly of her shorts; together they got her out of them. Killian growled dangerously when he realized he'd been right all along; she wasn't wearing any underwear. There was a wet spot in the denim, but it didn't matter. Emma cried out as his fingers slid through her slickness, coating his fingers.

“So wet for me,” he breathed. “Fuck.”

“Hurry,” she urged. “Please.” Killian started to move, intent on finding a condom no doubt, but Emma stopped him. “No. I want _you_. No barriers.”

Killian sobered, tipping her chin up. “Are you _certain_?”

“Yeah.” She tapped the tiny scar on her arm where her implant was. “See?”

“I always wondered what that was.” They were both healthy. Emma had been there when he got the call from the hospital after he hit his head, much to his embarrassment, but she hadn't said anything. It hadn't felt like the right time. Now it did.

Gently, she pulled his mouth back to hers, kissing him fervently. She knew this was a big step they were taking, but she was sure. She was his and he was hers. And she'd fight to keep him. She yelped when Killian's arms came around and lifted her up, nudging her legs around his hips. Emma mewled when she _felt_ him, warm and thick and _throbbing_ , sliding along her slit. He always felt good, but this was somehow _more,_ hotter, _scorching._ She clung to his neck, rolling her hips, needing more of that feeling.

“Oh,” she breathed, breaking for air. “Oh.”

“Fucking Christ,” Killian cursed. “Swan...”

“I'm ready.” Killian's hand slipped between them and then he was _there_ , sliding thickly, filling her up. She locked her eyes with his; she saw the same awe and need that she felt. She stared at him as he started moving, just shallow thrusts, basking in the sensation of _feeling_.

“Please tell me you feel that,” Killian whispered, burying his head in her shoulder. “Fuck.”

“I do. God.” She rolled her hips, getting impatient now. _“Move.”_

Killian groaned, hands tightening on her ass. “Hold on,” he advised, snapping his hips roughly into hers. Emma cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as he moved, her lower back banging into the door. It was unbelievable, finally feeling him, knowing what this really felt like. He stretched her in all the best ways, making her feel _full_. She pulled her legs tighter on his waist, locking her ankles, and he slipped in further, hitting her where she needed him so badly.

Emma bit his shoulder to muffle her shout; the door still rattling. Killian lifted her higher, his arms straining, his strokes getting less and less controlled. “Touch yourself,” he gasped. “I want to feel you so much, Emma.”

She snaked her hand between their sweat slicked bodies, unerringly finding her clit. Her body shuddered as she rubbed the sensitive bundle, short quick strokes that would have her flying in moments. Killian swallowed her scream with a kiss, holding her as she orgasmed. She was still coming when she _felt_ him, warm and wet inside her, coating her insides with his release. Emma shivered, tremors wracking her, skin tingling from her amazing high.

Killian trembling with the effort it was taking to hold her up; Emma managed to unlock her legs and lower them to the floor. She slumped against the door instead, needing a moment to catch her breath. It wasn't long before she felt the cooling stickiness between her thighs.

“We should get you cleaned up, lass,” Killian murmured, kissing her brow.

“Mmhmm.” She led him lead her to the bathroom, making no protest when he wet a washcloth and cleaned them both up.

“You still with me, Swan?”

She looked up at him; he looked concerned even though there was no reason to be. “Yeah. I'm fine. What about you?”

“No second thoughts?”

“Nope. Do you?” Suddenly, she was worried. She hadn't pushed him too far, had she?

“With you? Never.” He kissed her mouth sweetly, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Bed?”

“I'm not sleepy.”

Killian grinned mischievously. “I'm not either. But I think what I've got planned will be much more comfortable in the bed.”

“That so?” She stood up on her toes, kissing him soundly. “Race ya.” She ducked around him and was off like a shot, dashing for the bed. Killian caught her around the waist, sending them giggling and screeching into the bed. The abrupt end of their night was long forgotten.

* * *

Killian turned, hovering between awake and asleep, kicking haphazardly at the covers. He grunted softly when he settled on his side, instinctively reaching out for the warm body next to him. Emma hummed, stirring a little, stretching her legs out. Killian slipped his knee between hers, arm thrown over her stomach. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo.

He must have fallen asleep again, soothed by her warmth, because it was light out when he opened his eyes again. Emma had rolled onto her back, still in his arms, her face relaxed in sleep. She looked calm, peaceful, which Killian was thankful for, especially after the encounter last night. If he made her feel safe, then he was happy.

His stomach rumbled, a testament to more enjoyable activities in the wee hours of the night. Killian groaned and brushed a soft kiss to Emma's shoulder. He didn't want to leave her, but he thought it would be nice to greet her with breakfast when she woke. And if she wanted to talk about her ex, then he'd listen. He can't imagine that had been a pleasant experience for her.

As quietly as he could, he rolled out of bed, heading for the dresser to get some clean boxers. Killian chuckled, realizing that their clothes were still scattered by the door. He went to get them, tossing them in the hamper; he'd have to do laundry soon. Well, he had the day off, so he could probably squeeze it in. Next was breakfast and coffee, bacon and eggs today as it was all he had left. Probably time for a grocery run too, he noted with a sigh. He hoped Emma didn't mind running some errands today.

He heard a groan and some shuffling; Emma was awake. He stepped over to the coffeemaker, pouring her a cup, adding sugar just the way she liked it. He had it ready for her as she stepped into the kitchen. “Morning, sweetheart.”

She offered him a sleepy smile, accepting the cup. “You're the best,” she said, voice slightly scratchy. Killian hid his grin, knowing that _he_ was the reason her voice was so hoarse. He turned back to his cooking, finishing the eggs. He heaped bacon and eggs onto two plates, swinging them around to the little sidebar. He grabbed his own coffee, taking a seat on the stool next to her.

“Sleep well, love?”

Emma glanced at him, her cheeks faintly pink. “Yeah. But you knew that already.” She elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “You did too.”

“Aye, I've gotten quite accustomed to having a gorgeous lass in my bed, Swan.”

Emma rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her eggs. “Speaking of, um, how would you feel if I crashed here for a few days? Elsa's bringing some of my things.”

“That's fine. Any reason why?”

“I think you know why.”

“That bleeding prat who flew thousands of miles just to stalk you?”

“Well, it wasn't _just_ for that, but yeah. He doesn't know who you are, so the odds of him tracking me here aren't good.”

“He bloody well better not. Or he'll get more than a good tongue lashing. Which you handled very well, I must say.”

Emma munched on some bacon. “Thanks. Although if he hadn't left when he did I might have punched him in the face.”

“I wouldn't have stopped you, the bloody wanker.”

Emma chewed her lip worriedly. “His dad owns The Crocodile.”

Killian's brow furrowed. _“What?”_

“That was my reaction too. But it makes sense. Robert Gold owns properties all over the place; most of them he doesn't manage himself, he's got people for that. He just wracks in the cash from them. He's very arrogant, very well connected. He and my dad have gotten into more than one standoff. He's vile.”

“A trait he seems to have passed along to his son.”

Emma sighed. “I wish I had known that years ago.”

“It's not your fault, love.” He reached over and took her hand, squeezing gently. “So what does this mean?” Judging by her worried face, he knew it was more than just him she was concerned about.

“Well, it definitely complicates my pitch to Regina,” she replied, running her fingers through her sleep tangled hair. “If we invite the cream of New York society to The Crocodile, you can bet Gold will be among them.”

“And I technically work for him.” Which meant that no matter what happened, Killian would be unable to attend. The thought killed him; he wanted to be there. Not just because it was a cause he cared about, but because it was important to Emma. He wanted to see her realize her ambition.

“It's not fair,” she grumbled. “I wanted you to be there.”

“I did too.” He poked at his eggs, thinking. There had to be a way. If he'd learned anything being with Emma, it was that _anything_ was possible. They just had t use their imaginations. “Let's think this through, love. You want to have a themed event, right?” She nodded. “Well, what about a _masked_ ball? We'd be there, only not as ourselves.”

Her eyes lit up. “Do you really think that could _work?”_

He smiled too, excited. “Aye. It could be fun too, don't you think?”

She cocked her head, eyes narrowing. He recognized it as the look she got when she was deep in thought. “I like it. It'll be a bitch to pull off in such a short window...”

“You give Regina enough money and she could have it done overnight.”

“Well, I don't know about _that,”_ Emma countered. “But I was thinking early August? That would give us six weeks?”

“I think that would be plenty of time. You'll have to meet with her soon though.”

Emma nodded. “I'll call her office tomorrow, set up a meeting. I might be on the phone a lot tomorrow,” she sighed. “Oh well.”

“Remind me to get those numbers for you before I go into work.”

Emma leaned in and kissed him firmly. “You're amazing, Killian. Seriously.”

Now _he_ was blushing. “It's not much. You'll be doing all the hard work. I'm just tagging along.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn't even have _had_ this idea if it wasn't for you,” she argued. “Thank you.”

He smiled faintly, wondering just what he'd done to get her into his life. “What shall we do today?”

Emma shoveled more eggs into her mouth. “I know it might be asking a lot after what happened last night, but I was wondering...I'd like to call my parents. I could show them my idea and...introduce you to them?” She glanced at him nervously.

Killian swallowed, a shiver running down his spine. “You want to introduce me to your _parents?”_ Logically, he knew it would have to happen eventually, particularly if he wanted to stay with her. They hadn't really talked about what would happen when summer was over. He had to go back to school and Emma...well, who knew? If she could get her project going, then she could stay on the island. He wanted that. Selfishly, he desperately wanted that. But he'd never ask it of her.

“Well, yeah. Is that a bad thing?”

“No, _no._ I just...didn't expect it, that's all.”

“We don't have to,” she said hurriedly.

“You should talk to them. And if things go well, I'll be meeting them in person eventually, yeah?”

She smiled. “Yeah. I'd like that actually.”

“Confident in my devilishly handsome charms, Swan?”

She rolled her eyes. “Nah. I just want to see my dad threaten you.”

Killian nearly choked on his bacon. Surely she was joking. No one actually _did_ that anymore. This wasn't medieval times with knights and swords. And Emma was a grown woman, perfectly capable of making her own decisions.

But then again, he'd never had to face a father before, avoiding relationships the way he had.

He was screwed.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Emma stood in the laundry room of Killian's building, contemplating. It had seemed simple enough when she volunteered to put in a load; they both needed some clean things, as Elsa still hadn't brought her bag yet. But now as she stood in front of the washing machine...she was stumped.

She had a degree in business from one the country's best universities and she couldn't run a washing machine. How unbelievably sad was that?

She looked from the laundry basket to the machine, her brow creased in frustration. She examined the dial, and the instructions on the lid, trying to figure out what to do. She really didn't want to admit that she needed help; she was stubborn that way. Did she need the gentle cycle? The normal cycle? Hot water? Cold water? Luke _warm_ water? Did she throw everything into the machine?

Emma hadn't even  _seen_ a washing machine in person until college; her family had servants who did all that. Even here in Hawaii, she hadn't stooped to doing her own laundry. She kinda regretted that now. Just another instance of Emma the poor little rich girl.

Sometimes she wondered why Killian bothered with her.

“Swan?”

Emma sighed. “Come to check on me?”

“I did wonder what was keeping you.”

She knew he was only trying to be nice, but still, frustration flared in her chest. “Do you think I can't handle a simple load of laundry? Am I that pathetic to you?”

“I said not such thing, love.”

“Yeah, but you were thinking it.” She turned away, rifling through the basket randomly.

“I'll have you know I was _not_ ,” Killian shot back. “What's gotten into you?”

Emma growled, shoving at the basket angrily. “Your girlfriend can't do the laundry. Are you happy now?”

She felt Killian wrap his arms around her waist. “Something's vexing you, therefore I am  _not_ happy,” he whispered gently.

Emma felt her attitude drain out of her at the feel of his warmth. She leaned her head to his. “Sorry, I hate not knowing things.”

He squeezed her, fingers weaving together over her stomach. “Never done your own laundry, Swan?”

“Are you gonna laugh when I say no?”

She felt his cheeks plump as he grinned. “I would never.”

Emma tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it. A barking laugh tumbled from her lips. “God, I am so pathetic.”

“On the contrary, darling. You're willing to try new things, that's the opposite of pathetic.”

“But someone my age should know how to laundry, Killian.”

“You were raised in a different world, love. You can't change that. And I wouldn't want you to.”

“You just like the amusement this gives you.”

“It is right entertaining, I'll not deny.” He kissed her cheek. “Look at everything you've done since you've come here. You cook. You're on the cusp of getting a multi-million dollar project off the ground, you've got a charming beau.” Emma laughed. “You came here to change your life and you're _doing_ it. That's nothing to sneeze at, sweetheart.”

Emma pressed her lips together, thinking; she knew he was right. She was being ridiculous. It was just laundry, for God's sake. Snapping at Killian wasn't fair. “Help me?”

“Gladly.” He gave her one final squeeze then let her go. He picked the basket up and placed it on the floor. “First, we'll separate the colors from the whites and the towels,” he explained. Emma followed his lead; it didn't take them long. He showed her how to load the washer, put in the detergent and select the setting. “Just turn it and pull. It'll ring when it's done.”

Well, that was easy enough. “How long will it take?”

Killian shrugged. “Forty five minutes or so, I think. I've never really timed it.”

“You just turn up and it's done?”

He grinned “Something like that. Although more than once I've simply forgotten it was here and Old Mrs. Crag has come to fetch me.”

“So even the great Killian Jones isn't perfect,” she teased. “I'll have to remember that.”

“I never claimed to be perfect, love.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Come on, we've got some other things to get done today.”

Killian raised a curious brow. “Are you  _stalling_ , Swan?”

“No!” she cried defensively. “Do you want to talk to my parents wearing a ratty UH t-shirt?”

Killian plucked at the shirt she was wearing. “I think you have us confused, darling. And none of my clothes are ratty. Your NYU shirt on the other hand...”

“Shut up. I love that shirt.”

“And you look very fetching in it.”

Emma crossed her arms. Damn him for seeing right through her. For all her desire to introduce him to her parents, she was still a bit freaked out about it. She didn't want him to get hurt. She had no idea what her parents'—her mother especially—reactions would be. “Fine. I'm stalling. Happy?”

“It'll be okay, love.” He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “We'll do it together.”

She grinned. “Okay, but we really should wait.” She dug out her phone and checked the time. “My mom is probably out with her society friends right now. It's afternoon in New York.”

Killian nodded. “Very well. Since you're going to be staying for the foreseeable future, we should go do some shopping. The cupboard's nearly bare.”

“Okay. I'll shoot Elsa a text and let her know.”

“Maybe one to your father as well? Do you really want to catch him unawares?”

“How'd you get to be so smart?”

“It's a natural talent.” He booped her nose then headed for the stairwell. Emma followed him, quickly typing a text to Elsa. She paused before sending one to her dad; Killian really was right, she should give him some warning. She bit her lip, fingers flying over the screen.

_Have any plans tonight?_

It only took a few moments for her dad to respond.  _Nothing that can't be changed. Any special reason?_

Emma laughed. Her dad understood her well; she wouldn't be asking randomly.  _Can't I check in?_

_You seem to be getting on pretty well, sweetheart._

Emma slipped on her shoes, nodding at Killian.  _I am. But I would really like to call. Skype in a few hours?_

The length of time it took for her dad to reply showed how surprised he was. Videocalling wasn't his favorite thing and she knew it.  _Sure. Your mother too?_

_Yeah._

_Okay. Talk to you later then._

Emma signed off, following Killian down to the Jeep. When they got back from shopping, she'd send her dad an email with her proposal attached.

“Everything alright, Swan?”

“Yeah. I let my dad know I wanted to talk.”

“That's good.” He smiled at her before turning his attention back to the road.

Shopping was another adventure altogether. But it was a very  _domestic_ venture. Emma had never really expected to  _like_ domestic things; she was so focused on trying to get her career going. She found that she did though. She liked teasing Killian about buying the sugary kids cereal. She liked thinking about which recipes in her cookbook she wanted to try next.

And when they got back to his apartment, she liked putting her body wash and shampoo next to his in the shower.

It felt like  _home._ Or perhaps, Killian felt like home.

To kill time, they turned on the Netflix, watching a documentary on the ocean and its creatures, even though it made Killian grumble about the inaccuracies. Emma chuckled every time he did so; his indignation was adorable.

“It's not funny, Swan,” he groused. He was gently massaging her shoulders and neck, silently soothing her latent nerves about their upcoming call to her parents.

Emma leaned back into his touch, stifling a groan as he worked out a knot in her neck. “It's a _little_ funny,” she countered. “When you host the documentary, then you can do it your way.”

“Me? Are you sure you're not still a tad inebriated from last night?”

Emma turned to look at him from her spot on the floor. “I am not and you know it. Why couldn't you? You're intelligent, well spoken. You _know_ what you're talking about. You could be like that astrophysicist, Neil deGrasse Tyson.”

“Swan, I don't even have my degree yet. And why would I want to be on the telly anyway?”

“Well, you _are_ rather photogenic,” she pointed out, thinking of the adorable picture she had of him on her phone. “The accent alone would keep people riveted to their couches.”

“Are you mocking me, love?”

“No! It was just a thought. Sheesh.” She turned back around, intending to rewind the part of the program they'd missed. She actually had been watching it. But Killian took the remote out of her hand.

“Emma.”

“What?”

“Look at me, please.”

She rolled her eyes, but did as he asked. “Yeah?”

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“For taking your suggestion in a manner you probably didn't intend.”

“What could I have intended?”

He patted the seat next to him and Emma scrambled up into it. Killian gently took her hand between his, lightly massaging the back of it. “That I wasn't ambitious enough for you.”

Her face fell. She'd _never_ thought that. He had so much of his life worked out already, especially compared to her. How...? “Killian, I...”

“Let me finish. All I've ever wanted was to sail, work with the animals, do some good. I've lived so long keeping my expectations low, living from day to day. The future wasn't something I was truly focused on. Until I met you.”

“Oh.” None of this made sense to her. “I didn't...mean to screw anything up.”

Killian looked askance at her. “Love, you haven't screwed _anything_ up. You made me realize just how much I was missing. And to see you _inspired_ by the sea the way I have, makes me want so much more than I even deserve. So much that I don't imagine myself alone anymore.”

“You don't?”

Killian chuckled in disbelief. “Haven't I made that obvious? I am in love with you, Emma.”

Emma felt her heart stutter in her chest, something very like panic seizing her. The words were out there. He'd said them. He was in love with her. Emma stared into his brilliant blue eyes, unable to speak. She knew she should. She felt what he felt. Had for a while. But actions always spoke louder than words. Emma launched herself at him, covering his mouth with hers, swallowing his gasp of surprise. He guided her into his lap, straddling his hips, crushing her to his chest. Emma felt a giddy happiness wash through her, settling right over her heart.

This was different than before. This was _real_.

Emma was smiling when they had to break for air, their foreheads touching. Her eyes were closed, a tad paranoid that all this was a figment of her imagination.

“Swan?” Killian stroked her back, fingers combing through her hair.

Emma opened her eyes. “I'm here.”

Killian grinned. “Aye, you are. And in one of my favorite spots.”

“I do wind up here a lot, huh?”

“Almost like you belong there.” He sounded a little nervous, a little hesitant and hopeful?

Emma licked her lips. “Maybe I do.” She smiled, then brushed her lips to his, with more kisses to his cheek and jaw, just under his ear. “Especially since I'm in love with you too.”

She said it into his ear, her lips brushing the shell. She could feel him shiver under her. “Bloody _hell_.” Killian buried his head in her neck, mouth latching on sucking greedily at her skin. Emma mewled in pleasure, her head falling back. Killian yanked on the neck of her (his) shirt, exposing more flesh, tongue licking at her collar. He lit a fire in her belly, love and passion lashing every nerve. Emma arched her back, grinding her hips down into his.

Killian hissed, teeth scraping her skin. He slid the strap of her bra off, frantically working the buttons free on her shirt. He nudged the cup down with his nose, licking the curve of her breast. Emma's hands dived into his hair, intent on keeping him there, suckling her aching nipple.

“Tell me I can have you, Emma,” he growled into her skin. _“Please.”_

Emma rolled her hips again, feeling him hot and heavy between her legs. She nodded furiously. She needed him inside her, needed to feel him with the words spoken. She started jerking at her shorts, working to get them _off._

He stilled her hands. “Say it, love.” His voice was dark and decadent, all seduction. But she could see the love shining in his eyes.

“I'm yours,” she said, her voice trembling a little. “Have me, Killian.”

He growled again, kissing her hard and deep. Emma clung to him, need burning in her veins. Killian pushed her shirt and bra off her other shoulder so it bunched in her elbows. Emma shamelessly rubbed her sharp peaks against his chest, the burn so, so good.

“Fuck, you're gorgeous.” Killian eased her onto her back, laying her out on the couch. He kissed her stomach as he removed her shorts and panties, dragging both down her legs. He kissed her inner thighs, scruff scratching, avoiding the place where she needed him most. “You're _soaked_ , lass. I love how wet you get for me.”

Emma whined in frustration. “Killian, please. I _need_ you.”

He nodded, making quick work of his shorts, chucking them over his shoulder. Emma sucked her lower lip into her mouth, watching as he removed his boxers, cock springing free. Fuck, she wanted him. Killian crawled over her, licking a path up her torso. Emma felt him nudging her entrance and she spread her legs wider to accommodate him. She inhaled sharply as he pushed into her, still not quite used to the lack of barrier. She stretched around him deliciously, her body welcoming him in.

“Yes,” she breathed, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him. “Oh fuck yes.”

Killian gave her a sharp thrust, rocking her deeper into the couch. “Fuck.”

Emma hooked her feet around his legs, rolling her hips. “More. Feels so good.”

Killian nodded, taking her at a deep steady pace. Almost as if he didn't want the moment to end. Emma arched her back, a cry of pleasure spilling from her lips. Her hands curled behind his neck, dragging him down to her lips. She kissed him thoroughly, wanting him flush against her. Killian pawed her breast, twisting the nipple, relishing her surprised cry.

“I love you,” he murmured, in between kisses. “Christ, I love you so much.”

Emma bucked and nodded, her release coiling tighter and tighter in her belly. “Faster,” she pleaded.

Killian did as she asked, taking her with rapid, desperate plunges, so much like their first time. She cried out her approval, fingers in his hair, pulling on the short strands. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, almost pulling her under, her body taut and shaking, walls gripping him hard. Killian roared right after, pushing through it, spilling deep within her. Emma quaked in his hold, reeling from the aftershocks.

Killian kissed her lips, her cheek, her brow. He couldn't stop kissing her, not that she was complaining. She finally slumped back into the couch, body overheated and sensitive. Still, she made a tiny sound of protest when he slipped from her, easing his head down to her chest, over her heart.

“Love you,” she said when she got a bit of her breath back.

“Hmm, that sounds good.”

“Yeah, it does.” Almost as if an invisible weight was removed. She combed her fingers through his hair, smiling when he started purring again. “If we stay here much longer, I'm going to stain your couch.”

“Your point?”

“Do you want your friends to know we had sex on your couch?”

“Swan, I'm fairly certain the list of places we _haven't_ had sex is shorter.”

A flush crept up her chest. “Should I be flattered by that?”

“Oh yes. It's a testament to your irresistibility.”

“That's not a word.”

“I'm making it a word. Because it's what I feel for you. In every way, you are irresistible, my love.”

“I don't feel that way.”

“That's because you've been around daft ponces who wouldn't know a real woman if she danced naked in front of them.”

“I'm so glad I didn't do _that,”_ she teased.

“As am I. You belong with me.”

Emma felt a sudden lump form in her throat; the _truth_ of that knocking her breathless. She didn't belong _to_ him; she belonged to herself. But she did want to be _with_ him, side by side, facing whatever came at them. Some people would think they'd fallen in love insanely fast, but Emma knew better. She knew what love _wasn't_. It wasn't what she had with Neal. She'd known him most of her life and when she let him in, it led to nothing but pain.

Being with Killian wasn't painful. It was amazing. It was light and hopeful; he saw _her_ , Emma, and he loved her. It was an incredible gift that she hoped she never took for granted.

“Swan?”

Emma took a deep breath, trying to reign in her emotions. “I just...I just love you, okay? I never expected it, but I'm so glad this is how things turned out. For both of us.”

Killian leaned down and kissed her soundly. “Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?”

Their blissful bubble got shattered a few minutes hater with a sharp knock on the door. Emma was so startled that she instantly tried to cover herself, even though she was perched on the vanity in the bathroom, far from prying eyes.

“Who the bloody hell could that be?” Killian groused.

“Probably Elsa,” Emma replied. “I asked her to bring some of my stuff, remember?”

Their visitor knocked again. “I suppose I should go get that then.”

“Unless you want whoever it is to seem me naked.”

Killian's eyes darkened. “Stay right here, lass.” He kissed her briefly, then headed toward the living room.

“Put something on!” Emma hissed at his retreating back. She didn't want anyone to see _him_ either. Emma heard the rustle of fabric and a low curse before Killian opened the door. He spoke briefly to Elsa—Emma would know that laugh anywhere—and the door closed again. Emma felt fleetingly guilty that she didn't speak to Elsa herself, but she was in no state to be talking to anyone. Killian could get decently dressed faster than her.

They were lucky Elsa hadn't shown up any earlier.

Killian returned, wearing his shorts. “Elsa says hello. And if she forgot something to call and she'll bring it round.”

“That all?”

“You mean did she comment on my state of undress? No, love. Unless you wish to shout our...escapades from the rooftops?”

Emma reached out, dragging him between her legs by his belt loops. “I think I'd rather keep you all to myself,” she said with a smirk, fingers stroking his skin.

“Greedy lass, aren't you?”

She nodded. “Yep. You got a problem with that?”

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “No problem whatsoever.”

Emma ducked her head to capture his lips, sighing into the kiss, toes curling in pleasure. It was a while before they left the bathroom.

* * *

“Swan, it's fine. Really.”

Emma shook her head. “The fabric's still stained,” she pointed out, shaking the shirt at him. “How is that fine?”

“Sometimes stains don't come out. It's not the end of the world.” Killian took the shirt and hung it up. “I'll just get a new one. We can keep this one here for you.”

“You want me to wear a stained shirt?”

“Love, do you ever wear my clothes long?” The chocolate stain from their dessert in Honolulu wasn't even that noticeable. It was still fine for wearing around the apartment.

She flushed. “That's not the point.”

Killian put his hands over hers, stopping her from folding a towel. “I'm making it the point. It's just a shirt, sweetheart. And it carries a good memory now.”

“So not bad for a first try then?”

“Definitely not.” He squeezed her fingers and went back to helping her fold. It was their last task before calling her parents, and Killian sensed that they were both a bit nervous. Hence Emma's fixation on his shirt. All Killian knew about them was what Emma had told him; they wouldn't know him from a bloody hole in the wall. And no doubt not believe he was good enough for their daughter.

Since Killian privately believed that himself, he thought it best to expect it.

But she loved him. He knew that now. Had actually heard her say the words. He lost his head in his excitement, which wasn't difficult when she was just as eager as he. She was glorious, all soft curves and sweet moans, falling apart under him, taking him with her. Above all with love shining in her eyes.

_Stop that_ , he castigated himself.  _You're about to speak to the woman's father, you prat._

He tried to ignore the nervous twitch in his stomach, but it was hard. He'd never had to do this before, speak to the parents of a woman he was courting. Hell, until Emma, he'd never truly  _courted_ anyone, not wanting the distraction. But she'd come barreling into his life, turning everything he thought he knew upside down.

And he couldn't be happier about it.

“Ready?” Emma asked, adjusting the outfit she'd chosen. It was rather more demure than she'd ever worn before, covering more of her than he liked. But she was still beautiful.

“Why do I suddenly feel like I'm underdressed?” Killian was wearing khaki shorts, t-shirt, vest.

“It's a Skype call, babe,” Emma reminded him, smoothing her hands over his vest. “You look great.” In fact, she reached up into his hair, mussing it on purpose. “Perfect.”

“Because you mussed my hair?”

“It reminds me of the day we met. Well, the second time anyway. Artfully mussed definitely works for you.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

Emma smiled and took his hand. They moved over to his desk, pulling up one of the stools from the kitchen. She booted up her laptop and waited, tapping her finger impatiently on the plastic. Skype opened automatically; several of Emma's contacts appeared to be online. She tapped on an icon to open the call. Killian nudged the stool closer to her, trying to get them both in the webcam's field of view.

“Dad?” Emma asked, once the window was open. The room on the other end appeared to be paneled, painting of a castle by the sea hanging on the wall. “Dad, you guys there?”

An older man came into view, dirty blonde hair  _just_ beginning to gray. He was lean and fit, dressed in an expensive looking polo shirt. He had Emma's nose, the shape of her eyes. “Emma?” the man said. “You know I hate these things.”

Emma laughed. “Yeah, I know. But I wanted you to meet someone.” She examined the screen, squinting. “Where's Mom?”

The man sighed. “She's on her way. She got an unexpected call from the Mayor's office.”

“The Mayor?”

“His daughter's getting married. I think his wife wants your mother's opinion on caterers or something.”

“She would be the person to ask.” Emma smiled fondly at the screen. “It's good to see you, Dad.”

“Having a good time?”

“Yeah. I really am actually.” She looked at Killian and grinned, “Best vacation ever.”

“I'm here! Don't start without me!” a female voice crackled over the call. Killian couldn't hep but chuckle; the woman did not sound as fearsome as Emma had described. “I swear I have told Ella a thousand times Hugo's is the best catering in town. But does she listen? _No._ ” A chair scraped over the floor, then a petite raven haired woman came into view. She looked a bit like a pixie, dainty and beautiful, sharing Emma's green eyes and sweet smile. “There you are, Emma. When are you coming home?”

Killian saw Emma cringe and he took her hand, rubbing the back soothingly.

“Mary Margaret, you could at least say hello first.”

“Hi, Mom,” Emma said, her grip tightening ever so slightly on Killian's hand.

“I've not seen or heard from you in _weeks_ ,” her mother chided. “And all I get is 'hi, mom'?”

“Honey, I explained this to you. She just needed to get away from the city for a little while,” Emma's father said.

“I still don't see why, David,” Mary Margaret said stubbornly. It reminded Killian strongly of Emma.

Emma squared her shoulders, looking as determined as Killian had ever seen her. “Mom, Dad, I actually wanted you to meet someone. Hopefully, we can do this better soon, but,” she pulled Killian closer to her and he came willingly. “This is my boyfriend, Killian Jones.”

Her parents stared at them through the screen and Killian cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Nolan. Emma's told me a lot about you.” It was only partly a lie.

Mary Margaret narrowed her eyes. “You went all the way to Hawaii for a  _boy?”_ she said harshly. “Emma, I expected better from you.”

Emma's green eyes flared with anger. “I did not come here for a boy, Mom. Killian lives here. We met not long after I got here.” Which was true. Sort of.

“Hello, Killian,” David said, looking much friendlier than his wife. “I think we can assume from your accent you're not from Hawaii?”

Killian shook his head. “No, sir. I'm from England originally. Moved here some years ago to pursue my degree in marine biology.”

“You sail?”

Killian smiled. “Indeed. I've got my own boat; Emma's been out with me a time or two.”

“Killian's teaching me to navigate by the stars,” she informed her father. “It's harder than it looks.”

“You'll get it, Swan,” he said affectionately. “You just need some more practice.”

“And how is she supposed to get this practice when she's coming _home?”_ Mary Margaret complained.

“Mom...”

“This fantasy of yours has gone on long enough, young lady. Boys and sailing. What are you thinking?”

“I'm happy here, Mom,” Emma said clearly. “Happier than I've been in a long time. And I'm an adult, not a child. If I want to stay then I will.”

Mary Margaret stormed off in a huff. Killian could hear her furious pacing in the background. David moved to the center of the screen, trying to take up the slack in the conversation. The three of the chatted about nonsense for some minutes, studiously ignoring the proverbial elephant in the room.

“Dad, did you get my email?”

David's face brightened. “I did. It's a very ambitious idea, Emma.”

“I think it's brilliant,” Killian put in. He knew how important this was to Emma. “The Nolan name could just be the thing to cut through some of the politics.”

“Do you think so?” David asked.

“Sir, I've been here a while. Interned as an undergrad. There's so much that _could_ be done, if the right person could spearhead it. Emma's got some really great ideas. She just needs a boost to get the ball rolling.”

David cocked his head, just like Emma did when she was thinking. “First, Killian, I think you should call me David. Sir sounds like your talking to Mary Margaret's father.” Killian smiled. “Second, it  _is_ an excellent proposal. I think I could have a small staff out there by the end of the summer...”

“I want to do it myself,” Emma interjected firmly. “It is my idea after all.”

“Emma, starting a multi million dollar company, non-profit or not, is not an easy thing.”

“I know that. But all I've ever wanted was to have a chance. I really think I can do this, Dad. I just need you to trust me.”

David looked thoughtful. “Trust and a few million dollars.”

Emma flushed. “Well, yeah. About that...”

“Absolutely not,” Mary Margaret said, coming back into the shot. “I will not have you squandering the company's money, Emma.”

“With all due respect, honey, you left the running of Nolan Tech to _me_.”

“You're not seriously considering this?”

“I want to hear what our daughter had to say. You should too.”

Mary Margaret's mouth opened, then promptly shut. Emma took the opportunity to explain the ball, to drum up publicity and investors, and gain the trust of the reserves. Killian was very proud of her as she spoke; her voice becoming stronger and more confident. She had given this a lot of thought, more than she'd told even him.

When she finished, David was smiling. “A ball right under Gold's nose? I think you might be onto something, Emma.”

“You know he'll probably _be_ here, right?”

“Of course. But it will be _my_ daughter stealing the limelight right out from under him.”

“Having a masked ball was Killian's idea actually,” Emma informed him, glancing at Killian fondly. He looked at her in surprise, not expecting or needing any credit. He just wanted to be there.

“Really? Are you sure you majored in the right thing, Killian?”

Killian blushed. “Aye. I belong at sea, David, not the boardroom. I'll leave that in Emma's capable hands.”

“You're awfully confident for someone who just met her,” Mary Margaret said quietly.

“I don't need to have known her long to value her intelligence. Emma is smart and very determined. I believe in her. I truly think she can make a difference.”

Silence reigned for a long minute. Emma fiddled with the hem of her blouse nervously. Then she took a deep breath. “How about a trade? You help me with this, and I'll...I'll come to Gold's charity thing at the end of the summer. Play the dutiful daughter one last time.”

Mary Margaret's green eyes sparkled. “I think that's fair. Don't you agree, David?”

David looked from his wife to his daughter, the wheels turning in his head. “Okay,” he agreed at last. “You'll have our full backing, Emma. I've been meaning to increase our Pacific presence anyway.”

Emma's face lit up. “Thank you! You won't regret it, I swear.”

Killian wanted to warn her about making promises she couldn't keep, but he didn't have the heart to ruin her joy. David and Emma talked more particulars; David agreeing to have the family lawyer draw up the legal documents. Emma would surely have a meeting with Regina this week and soon Killian would have to share her with her new job.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Then again, he always felt bad about leaving her to her own devices while  _he_ worked. Perhaps it was only right that Emma find a job of her own. Especially one she wanted as badly as this.

They ended the call a little while later, Emma exhaling loudly as she closed the laptop. “Well, that was interesting.”

Killian leaned in and kissed her shoulder. “I'm not sure interesting is the word I would use, love.”

“They seemed to like you.”

“Your father, perhaps.”

“I'm not sure my mother would like anyone,” she said sadly, turning to face him. “It's wasn't you. She's still pissed at me. I'm sorry she took it out on you.”

“It's alright, love.” Killian pulled her in for a hug; they could both use one. Emma held him tightly, her head buried in the crook of his neck. “Now what is this charity thing you've agreed to attend?”

Emma guided him to the bed. Killian hadn't realized how late it was. She sat on the edge and he sat beside her. “Every year Gold has a charity ball. It's all sham, to convince people he's not a terrible person. But it's the 'social event of the year.'” She used her quote fingers and Killian laughed. “Anyway, that's what my mom was talking about when I decided to leave. She always insists I go and the idea of subjecting myself to that  _again._ I hate it. I hate him. I hate...”

“Neal,” Killian finished for her. “But why use it as a bargaining chip?”

“Well, I'm hoping it won't be as loathsome this year.”

“Why's that?”

“Because I hoped you would go with me?”

“You want _me_ to go?”

“Why not? Unless you have school?”

“Swan, if you wanted me there, then I would gladly miss school. Besides, I'm at the point where I'm not taking actual classes anymore. I just need to finish my blasted thesis.”

“So you'll go?”

“Of course!”

“But what about Gold?”

“Emma, I'm graduating in the spring. With any luck, I won't need my job at the Crocodile after this summer. Robin made an offer for me to stay on, but I want to be more than a mechanic. Remember that future I was telling you about?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it just got a lot more interesting.” He smiled at her, smoothing his hand over her hair. “What'd you think, love? Is there room in this company of yours for a freshly graduated marine biologist?”

“You know what? I think there is.” She smiled too and closed the gap, kissing him hard. It wasn't long before they tumbled into the bed, clothes shed.

If everything worked out they could be partners. In every sense of the word.

* * *

“How do I look?” Emma smoothed her hands down the front of her crisp new business suit, complete with pencil skirt. It had taken some doing to find something suitable on such short notice, but together Emma and Elsa had managed it.

Killian studied her critically, his blue gaze intense. Usually when he looked at her like that she knew she was in for a very enjoyable evening. Or afternoon. Or morning. Oh hell, he looked at her like that a lot, okay? It was a look she associated with adoration and pleasure. It was different this time though. Because no matter what they would have to behave themselves. Emma's first meeting with Regina Mills was in an hour.

“From what I've seen of her, you should fit right in,” he said finally. Then he smirked. “Also very fetching, lass.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You think I'm 'fetching' in everything.”

“Or nothing,” he added. “Especially that last one.”

Emma felt her cheeks warm. Would she ever get used to this simplicity of being with him? She spent so much of her time with Neal fighting for his attention, for him to do _something._ He had only seemed to show her affection when he wanted sex. Or when he wanted something else from her. With Killian, his attention was on her at all times, even when sitting quietly at his desk working while she read or cleaned or watched TV. They found a rhythm as a couple, as if pulled together by gravity. It was intoxicating and heady and she loved it.

“Is sex all you think about?” she teased.

Killian stepped closer, getting into her space. Emma's heart stuttered, as it tended to do when he was that close. “It's _not_ ,” he said quietly, bracing his hands over hers and locking their fingers together between them. “But I have to admit to being much more...enamored of it since a certain blonde came into my life.”

“Killian...”

“Mostly though, I just enjoy seeing that look on your face and knowing I put it there.”

“What look?”

“The 'only thing I want to be doing is you' look.”

“I do not look like that!”

“I assure you, you do. But it can be our little secret, Swan.”

Emma huffed. He was hopeless. She was hopeless. How the hell had they managed to find each other? “Are you sure I look okay? I'm only going to get one chance at this.”

“You look amazing, sweetheart. If she doesn't jump at your proposal, then she's a fool. And I've never taken Regina for a fool. She's hard nosed and tyrannical, but there might a heart lingering in there somewhere.”

“You make her sound like some Evil Queen.”

“I don't think she's gotten to where she is by being _nice._ Stickler for rules and such.”

Rules that Killian was flagrantly breaking by being with her, Emma reminded herself. She had to nail this thing. For both of them. She really wanted that future Killian had talked about. Build a home together, a place where they could both follow their dreams. She could do this. It was everything she wanted.

“I'll keep that in mind. Thanks.” She smiled at him, squeezing his fingers. “You're gonna be late.”

“Bloody hell.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly, not wanting to smudge her makeup. “I'll see you tonight?”

“Yeah. I'll call you. Maybe I'll be done before lunch and we can grab something.”

“Oh, clandestine lunch date. I like it.” He thumbed the apple of her cheek. “Good luck. You'll do great, love.”

Emma laughed and pushed him away. “Go, get outta here.”

Killian winked at her one last time then grabbed his gear and left. Emma hurried to the bathroom to check her hair and makeup again. It was fine; she was just being paranoid. Sighing, Emma headed back to the living room where she gathered up copies of her proposal—proofread and edited by Killian—and slipped them into her new briefcase. She'd had to get all new things since all of her stuff was still in New York.

She had a momentary panic attack when she couldn't find the legal documents her dad had sent, but it turned out they were on the coffee table underneath a pile of Killian's books. She put those in her briefcase too; a bit optimistic, perhaps, but it was always better to be prepared. She learned that from her dad.

When she arrived at the Crocodile a half hour later, Doc was back at the check in desk. “Emma Nolan to see Regina Mills,” she informed him, her voice much steadier than she felt. It had been a while since she'd done anything like this; she hoped it was like riding a bike.

“Do you have an appointment, Miss Nolan?”

“Yes, she's expecting me.”

“I'll call back and confirm.” He picked up the phone and dialed...whoever was in charge of Regina's schedule she supposed. After receiving an answer in the affirmative, he nodded at her. “Yes, Miss Nolan, Ms. Mills is expecting you. If you'll follow me, please.”

Emma followed Doc back through the lobby, back toward the area guests weren't permitted. They passed at least three “No Unauthorized Personnel” signs as they went. Emma's eyes widened when she saw Will stalking through the hall; there was no way he wouldn't recognize her. He nearly stopped in his tracks when he did and Emma had to shake her head violently to stop him from speaking to her. He scowled but nodded as they passed. Doc didn't seem to spot a thing.

That was something she had forgotten. Killian wasn't the only member of the Crocodile's staff she knew personally. They'd have to put Robin and Will in the loop or the entire game would be up.

They reached Regina's office without further mishap; Doc speaking briefly to what Emma assumed was her secretary. The man was good looking, almost model good looking. Emma took in the scruff, the liquid brown eyes, chiseled features almost mechanically. Sure, he was good looking but there was something...lacking. Almost like there was no soul behind those eyes. Certainly no fire. In another life she might—emphasis on _might—_ have been attracted to him, but not now that she understood what real attraction felt like.

“Miss Nolan, Graham here will look after you until Ms. Mills is free,” Doc said. “I hope you have a pleasant day.”

“Thanks.”

“Would you like something to drink, Miss Nolan?” Graham said softly. He had an accent too, Irish. But it didn't stir her the way Killian's did.

“Coffee?” Emma asked. Graham nodded. “Black, two sugars, please.” The man hurried off, the tail of his shirt flapping over his skinny jeans. Hipster assistant. Great. Emma took a seat and waited. Graham returned with her coffee, which she accepted. Then she waited some more. Once she finished her coffee, Emma glanced at her phone. Regina was late.

Or making her wait on purpose.

“Is Ms. Mills not in the office?” Emma asked.

“She's on another line,” Graham replied smoothly, as if he'd given this excuse a thousand times. “Call from the mainland.”

Emma tried not to let her irritation show. This was a business tactic, that was all. She absolutely should not read anything into it. She had a very good proposal. A very good _deal_. Bringing New York society to Regina's super exclusive resort was very good business. Good publicity. Who didn't love that?

Regina's call to the mainland—if indeed that's what it was—kept Emma waiting for over an hour. Eventually, she had to text Killian to let him know that lunch was probably going to be a no go. It was already after ten thirty. Finally, Graham's intercom buzzed and Emma heard the imperious tone let him know that Regina would see her visitor now.

Steeling herself, Emma stood up, briefcase clutched in her hand. With her free hand, she smoothed her a stray hair back into her bun. She followed Graham to the door, stepping into a harsh black and white world. Regina's office was very stark, very modern. The walls were black and white stripes, cut every so often with a floral pattern she couldn't identify. The desk was glass with sleek black metal legs. It was obvious why. Regina's trim legs were exposed to their fullest potential through the glass, along with her shorter-than-was-strictly-necessary-skirt.

This was a woman who was used to using her sexuality to get what she wanted.

Too bad that wouldn't work this time.

Emma stepped right up to the desk and held out her hand. “Thank you for meeting with me, Ms. Mills.”

Regina didn't stand, but did accept Emma's hand in a brief shake. “I must admit your initial description was very intriguing, Miss Nolan.”

“Emma, please.”

“Emma. Won't you have a seat?”

Emma nodded and sat in the large white leather armchair that sat across from Regina's desk. She declined another offer of a drink and heard the door gently click as Graham stepped out.

“Now if my information is correct,” Regina said, leaning back in her chair. “You're David Nolan's daughter? Of Nolan Tech?”

“Yes, that's right.” Emma had expected this. As much as it bothered her, being who she was most likely got her foot in the door. It would be up to her to step through it.

“And you've been staying here for the last...seven weeks? Quite a long time to be away from New York.”

Emma smiled. “Is that a complaint against the _thousands_ of dollars I've spent at your resort, Ms. Mills?”

“Not at all. Merely an observation, Miss Nolan.”

Emma took the return of her last name as a sign that Regina still wasn't taking her seriously. Time to get on with it. “Perhaps I've become fond of the weather.”

“It is a lovely time of year.”

“Also in my time here, I've availed myself of many of your resort's activities. Your staff is excellent.”

“Guest enjoyment is our number one priority, Miss Nolan. Now I believe you had a proposal for me?”

“Yes, I do. As I said the other day, I believe The Crocodile would be ideally suited for my purpose. Centrally located in a tourist area with excellent staff and facilities.” Emma pulled out her proposal, complete with pie charts and graphs. Thank god for Kinkos. “I have a copy of what I'd like to do right here.” She handed the folder to Regina and sat back. “I think you'll agree that this would be an excellent business opportunity for The Crocodile, Ms. Mills.”

Regina still looked skeptical. “We shall see, Miss Nolan.” The older woman pursed her lips as she flipped through the folder. She must have seen something that caught her eye because she went back to the beginning and actually started to read. Emma tried not to fidget as Regina scrutinized her work; that wouldn't do. She had to appear as the cool, confident businesswoman, someone who knew exactly what she wanted and was going to get it.

“Very interesting, Emma,” Regina said at last, closing the folder. “But I have one question.”

“And that is?”

“How does someone like you become interested in saving sea turtles and whales?”

Emma frowned. “And by someone like me you mean...”

“Well, it's no secret that your favorite activities involve shopping and going to parties. We get the tabloids here too, Miss Nolan.”

_Shit_ . How to explain without bringing Killian into it? Emma recrossed her legs, thinking. “Do you believe everything you read in the supermarket check out line, Ms. Mills?” she said sarcastically. Then she looked into the other woman's eyes. “I've loved the ocean my whole life. But from a distance. Coming here...I realized how much I was missing. This is a wonderful area, as I'm sure you'll agree. Wouldn't it be in The Crocodile's best interest to make sure the wonder of the area is maintained? Perhaps even improved on? At the end of the day, that ocean is your resort's lifeblood, Ms. Mills.”

Regina steepled her fingers, leaning back in her chair. “A passionate plea, Miss Nolan. What would you need from us?”

Emma sat up straighter, knowing now she had Regina's attention. Briefly, she outlined her idea of the benefit, the masked ball. She updated Regina on her progress reaching out to the various reserves, emphasizing the interest she'd encountered. Almost all of the administrators welcomed her ideas, no doubt greased by introductions from Killian's professor. Emma had yet to meet the man in person, but she would thank him if all this actually worked. Regina nodded periodically, her brown eyes becoming less cynical and more impressed.

Emma was about to mention her parents' interest when the door burst open. “I tried to stop him, Regina,” Graham was saying hurriedly, but he got pushed out of the way by the  _last_ person Emma wanted to see.

“Whatever she wants, I won't allow it,” Neal said, stomping over to Regina's desk. He leaned on it, hands smudging the glass. He looked like he'd been running, trickles of sweat running down his neck. Emma could smell the alcohol on him.

“What are you _doing_ here, Neal?” Emma asked, standing as well.

“Do you two know each other?” Regina asked.

“Unfortunately,” Emma replied. “Seriously, Neal. What the hell?” He had no right to try and take this from her.

“My father owns this place, remember? And we're not giving you _shit.”_

Regina stood too, clearly not intimidated by Neal's language. “Yes, but Mr. Gold has left  _me_ in charge. You have no power here.”

“The hell I don't!” Neal retorted. “I want her gone!”

“She's a paying guest, unlike _you_ ,” Regina snapped. “As I said, you have no power here.”

“But, but...” Neal spluttered.

Regina smirked. “Emma was just outlining a very lucrative business proposition for this resort. If you'd like to call your father and explain to him  _why_ I shouldn't make a deal that will make him a  _lot_ of money, then be my guest.” She picked up the receiver on her phone and held it out to Neal.

Neal looked from Regina to the the phone. He looked like he was going to reach for it, then changed his mind. He cast a hateful look at Emma, then stomped off, slamming the office door behind him.

“Petulant child,” Regina muttered, taking her seat. “I fear for Gold Enterprises when Mr. Gold passes.”

“I'd rather _not_ think about that, if you don't mind,” Emma retorted, sitting as well.

“Ah, yes, your father and he don't get along, do they?”

“No, they don't. Is that a problem?”

“Mr. Gold is very hands off, as I'm sure you're aware. If I can show him a healthy bottom line, then no, it will not be a problem. I can handle Mr. Gold.”

Emma cocked her head. “But that's not the only reason you're doing this.”

“I do not like having my authority questioned, Miss Nolan. Everything that happens here is because _I_ wish it.”

“Your own personal fiefdom.”

“Precisely. And no one, especially Neal Gold, is going to take it away from me.”

“So we have a deal then?”

“Indeed, Emma. We do.” They shook on it and Emma reached into her briefcase. “In that case, Ms. Mills, I have some paperwork we should examine.”

She put Neal firmly out of her mind as they spent the next couple of hours hammering out the finer details of the contract. Regina was a tough negotiator, but Emma was ready for her. She wouldn't budge on the idea of the masquerade. It was the only way Killian could attend, and Emma didn't want to do this without him. He was just as much a part of this as her. Regina seemed to get this almost maniacal gleam in her eye when Emma rattled off the A list celebrities that would probably attend, all thanks to her parents.

It was a veritable gold mine for a place like The Crocodile and Regina knew it.

Emma was on her way to her car, tired but happy, when Neal accosted her again. “Why can't you take a hint, Neal?” she snapped.

“I will get you back for this, Emma,” he snarled. “No one makes a fool of me.”

“It wasn't me,” she pointed out. “It was Regina. Do you really think your father would fire her? What do you _do_ for him anyway? Besides waste his money on booze and hookers?”

“Mulan isn't a hooker!”

“Maybe not, but she's not here with you, is she? Or do you two have some sort of arrangement?”

Neal scowled. “What about that guy I saw you with? Aren't you just using him too?”

Emma's grip tightened on her briefcase. “Walk away, Neal.  _Now.”_

“Oh, hit a nerve, have I?”

“The only thing that's going to get hit is your face if you don't get out of my way,” Emma snarled. How dare he accuse her of using Killian? She loved him. Loved him so much her chest ached.

“You wouldn't dare.”

Emma stared at him levelly. “Watch me.”

“I hope you both rot in hell,” Neal snarled. Then he left. Coward. Then again, he always had been. It just took Emma too long to see it.

When she got back to the apartment, she decided to go for a run, even though she was tired. She had to work out some of the anger she was feeling. She didn't want to take it out on Killian when he came home. They were going to celebrate.

* * *

Killian replaced the last lug nut with a satisfying twist. He tested the tire to make sure it was secure before directing Robin to let the truck off the jack. The hydraulics hissed as the truck came back to earth.

“I'll take her for a spin to make sure she's aligned,” Robin said, wiping his hands on a rag. “You should get out of here.”

“I can do it,” Killian replied. “I've got another fifteen minutes.”

“Didn't Emma have that meeting with Regina today?”

Killian frowned. “How'd you know about that?”

“Regina mentioned it the other night after we...uh,” Robin hesitated, scratching his head.

Killian held his hands up. “No, I get it.” Thinking of Robin and Regina like _that_...no, thank you. “I'm still not sure how you two are a thing.”

“How are you and Emma a 'thing'?”

“Emma's not a hardass.”

“Regina's not either.” Killian raised a credulous brow. “Okay, she _can_ be. But she's wonderful with Roland. She's got a good heart.”

“If you say so, mate. I'll just try and steer clear of her, if you don't mind.”

Robin sighed. “Probably for the best. Perhaps one day, eh?”

Killian chuckled. “Aye, one day when I no longer work here.”

“Do you think you and Emma will last that long?” When Robin saw Killian's scowl, he quickly amended. “She's a wonderful woman, Killian. I just don't want you to turn into Will.”

Killian snatched up the degreaser and started on his hands. “She introduced me to her parents,” he told his friend. “That serious enough for you?”

Robin let out a low whistle. “When?”

“A few days ago. It went better than I expected.” At least on David's side. He was fairly certain Mary Margaret despised him.

“That's good, isn't it?”

“Aye. I just want her to be happy, mate.”

“Well, from what I've seen, she seems very happy, Killian. And so do you.” Robin looked at the clock again. “Now really, _get out of here._ Go home to that girl of yours.”

Killian nodded gratefully, then finished washing his hands. He scrubbed them until only the barest traces of black remained. He hated touching her with dirty hands.

Emma had sent him a brief text when her meeting was over, letting him know that it had gone well. They were disappointed to have missed lunch, but Killian was determined to make it up to her. And since her plans seemed to be taking off, a celebration of sorts was in order. A very private celebration that left them exhausted and sated.

On his way home, Killian stopped for a bottle of champagne, some Italian takeout and flowers. Her favorites were orchids, so he got a bouquet of orchids and violets. The flowers got a tiny bit smushed as he hauled everything up to his place, but it was the thought that counted, right?

“Emma?” Killian called. When she didn't answer him, he frowned. Then he heard the water running in the shower. He put his goodies on the nook and headed for the bathroom. “Swan?”

“Oh sorry! I'll be right out!”

“Need any help in there, love?”

Emma laughed, but it sounded a bit forced. “Nah, I'm almost done. Next time?”

“Very well. I brought dinner.”

“Oh, good. I'm starving.”

Killian laughed and let her finish her shower. He went to set up their meal, finding a couple of stubby candles in a drawer and lighting them. He put the champagne on ice, found some wine glasses, and set the small nook for two. He was changing his shirt when Emma came out of the bathroom, dressed in shorts and a tank top, her hair blessedly down.

Killian pulled the t-shirt over his head and headed for her. “Hello, love.”

“Hi.”

Killian cocked his head. “Everything go well, lass?”

“Mostly.”

“Would you like to talk about it over dinner? I brought your favorite.”

Emma sniffed at the air. “Yes, please.”

Killian took her hand and guided her to the nook, smiling at her pleased hum. “I thought we should celebrate.”

“Killian, this is great. Thank you.” She kissed his cheek, then reached for the flowers, inhaling their sweet scent. “You remembered.”

“Of course. I remember everything about you, Swan.”

“Unlike some people I know.” She put the flowers down and sat on her stool. Killian sat next to her, serving out portions of the tortellini he brought. There was salad and bread too, more than enough the two of them.

“So what happened, sweetheart?”

“I think I'm gonna need some of that champagne before I tell you.”

Killian didn't question her further, merely pouring their drinks. She'd tell him when she was ready, he knew that. Emma took a healthy swig of the champagne, followed by a few bites of her pasta. She nodded at him gratefully, smiling for the first time since he'd arrived home. “Good?”

“Yeah. You're the best.”

They ate in silence for a little while; Killian stealing glances at her every once in a while. He was getting more and more worried, his curiosity threatening to overwhelm him. What did “mostly” mean?

Emma was halfway through her second glass of champagne when she spoke. “Regina kept me waiting over an _hour.”_

“Is that normal?” He was a mechanic and a scientist; he didn't know much about business.

“It usually happens when someone wants to brush you off.”

“I see. But you said she agreed. What changed?”

Emma put her fork down. “I was halfway through explaining my pitch when... _Neal_ barged in.”

Killian's hackles instantly went up. He didn't want that wanker anywhere _near_ Emma. Not after the way he treated her at the bar. “What did _he_ want?”

“He tried to order Regina to turn me down.”

“ _What?”_

“Exactly my reaction. Regina basically threatened him to take it up with his dad, then he walked out.”

“I always knew Regina has solid brass ones, love.”

“Steel more like. After Neal's little display, she was much more receptive. I think she was going to do it anyway, but Neal ordering her about didn't sit well with her. At all.”

“So the Queen is on board then? You're getting your ball?”

“ _Our_ ball,” Emma corrected. “And I insisted on it. The revised contract is on its way to Nolan Tech's legal team as we speak.”

Killian leaned over and kissed her firmly. “I knew you could do it, Emma. I'm very happy for you.” When she didn't look quite as thrilled as he expected, he frowned. “What's the matter?”

“Neal stopped me on the way to my car. We didn't have a pleasant conversation.”

Killian instantly started looking her over, concerned that that bastard had hurt her. “Are you alright?”

Emma stilled his hands. “Yeah, I'm fine. Threatened to punch him in the face and he left. I think it's safe to say he hates me now.”

“Does that matter?”

“Not to me. I just don't want him coming after you.”

“Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours over me, lass. I'll be fine.”

Emma brushed his cheek with her fingers. “I love you, Killian. You understand that, right?”

He turned his head and brushed his lips over her palm. “Of course I do. As I love you. Why?”

“Neal tried to imply that I was using you.”

Killian growled. “If I _ever_ see that ponce again...”

“Hey, he's gone. Regina let me know a little while ago. He's on his way back to New York and out of our lives.”

“About bloody time.” Killian reached up and ran his thumb over Emma's parted lips. “Are you going to stay here now that he's gone?” He assumed her staying with him would only be temporary now that her reason for moving in was gone. But he didn't want her to go. He wanted her to stay with him.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Killian swallowed. “Aye.”

Emma smiled. “Then I will.” She leaned across his lap and kissed his lips gently, molding her mouth to his. Killian moaned softly, happy to finally be able to kiss her the way he wanted to. Eventually, he pulled her into his lap, their dinner forgotten.

“I missed you today, lass,” he murmured, his hands sliding under her ass to hold her to him.

“I missed you too.” She tasted of pasta and champagne with just a hint of that spice that uniquely her. She slid her tongue into his mouth, stroking and sucking. “Take me to bed, Killian.”

He didn't hesitate, wrapping her legs around his waist as he slid off the stool. She kissed a path along the column of his throat as he walked them to the bed, little bolts of desire shooting down his spine. He laid her down, sprawled over his comforter, her golden hair fanning out behind her. “I'm going to take care of you, love,” he whispered, fingers tracing her delicate features. She sucked his thumb into her mouth, lapping at it with her tongue.

“What if I just want you?”

“Then you'll have to wait,” he said with a grin. “You'll be begging by the time I take you. Can you do that?”

“Wait or beg?”

“Both.”

“You'll just have to see now, won't you?”

Killian smirked at her and started to strip, not wanting any barriers between them. Emma watched him, squirming a little on the bed, her green eyes slowly getting swallowed in black. When she reached for her own clothes, Killian knocked her hands away. “Mine,” he admonished.

Emma groaned, licking her lips. “Well, hurry up then.”

Killian crawled into the bed with her, his hands sliding up her long lean legs. “You like being naked, Swan?”

Emma moaned, her hips rocking slightly. She _did_ love his rough hands on her smooth skin. “Y-y-yes,” she breathed.

“And I'm the only who gets to see you, right?” He toyed with the button on her shorts, waiting for her answer.

“Yes.”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her stomach, unfastening her shorts. He slid them down, panties and all, leaving her bare from the waist down. She was already wet, but he wanted her _dripping_. He took her right foot into his hands, kissing the arch. Then he started massaging her foot firmly, slowly, and Emma gasped sharply.

“Oh,” she sighed, looking at him with heavy lidded eyes. _“Oh.”_

“Do you like this?”

She nodded. “Yes.” One hand lay on her stomach, the other fisted the sheet.

“Don't touch,” he warned. “Only I get to touch you, Emma.”

“Are you gonna tie me up?” she sassed, her hand drifting down her stomach.

“Do I need to?”

“Would you?”

“Perhaps. But not tonight.”

Her eyes glazed over a bit at that and he filed that away for later. If that was something she wanted in the future, then he would be more than happy to oblige her. Killian reached for her other foot, repeating his earlier actions. Emma hissed, reaching above her head for the pillow, gripping it in her hands.

“There's a good girl,” he praised, kissing her ankle. He coaxed her to roll over, exposing her ass to him. His mouth watered; he wanted to take bite out the firm round globes. But he managed to restrain himself. For now. Instead, he kneaded the back of her calves, working one, then the other, just enough to tease. He didn't want her falling asleep. He kissed and licked that spot behind her knee that made her moan, sliding her legs further apart. “Would you like me to fuck you like this, Emma?”

She moaned. “You can have me any way you want.”

“Any way?” His hands moved higher up her legs, kneading and squeezing; she melted into his touch. He reached her ass, molding the flesh into his hands, spreading her open. His thumb brushed her puckered hold. “What about here?”

Emma sucked in a shallow breath; she was trembling. “If you want.”

Killian moaned as his cock throbbed and twitched, only in his darkest fantasies had he imagined Emma allowing him to have her that way. But perhaps he could ease her into it. It didn't have to happen tonight. He touched her there again, pressing down with light pressure. Emma moaned, rocking again into his touch. “One day soon, yeah?” he bit out. “Fuck, I would love that so much.”

Emma nodded furiously. Killian slid his hand lower, down to her very wet cunt. He spread her folds, fingers teasing. “Christ, does that make you wet, Swan? Knowing I want to fuck this tight arse?”

Emma rolled her hips. “Fuck, _yes_. More, Killian.”

Killian teased her entrance with the tip of his finger, not quite giving her what she wanted. His other hand wrapped around his cock, stroking, needing _some_ kind of friction. He moaned, still teasing her, driving them both crazy. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside her and fuck her until they were both exhausted, but he wasn't through with her yet.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hands away, reaching for her tank top. He pulled it up, forcing Emma to release the pillow to he could get it off. She lay there twisted and he kissed her hard, his cock rubbing her ass. His hand fondled her breast, plucking at the nipple until she cried out. “God, I always want you, Emma,” he murmured into her shoulder, kissing and licking her collar. “I can't get enough.”

Emma covered his hand with hers, sliding it over her skin. “Don't stop. Don't stop touching me.”

Killian did as she asked, molding his hands to her skin, kissing a trail down her spine. He felt like he was burning up, the ache almost too much. The fire between them never cooled completely. Sometimes it would simmer quietly, a slow gentle wave early in the morning, either in bed or in the shower. Other times it flared white hot, burning and scratching, leaving marks. This was somewhere in between, a desire to savor warring with the need to _have._

When he got to her ass, he _did_ bite down, just a little, grinning when she moaned. He pushed one of her legs up, spreading her further, dipping his tongue to her sopping flesh. She was dripping now, just as he wanted, a small damp spot on the sheet. Emma moaned his name, pushing her hips back toward him.

“Oh yes, _please_ ,” she cried.

“Hmm, you taste so good, love.” He licked at her, teasing her, relishing her mewls of pleasure. He fucked her with his tongue, stroking her clit with his finger. Emma trembled, getting closer and closer, until he pulled away, leaving her wanting.

“Killian...what...”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Just relax, darling. I've got you.” He started again, slowly teasing her, kneading her ass, her thighs. He sucked a mark into the inside of one, loving the sounds she made. He slid one finger inside her, then two. He licked her puckered hold as he fingered her, just like he would when he was ready to have her there. Killian felt her walls contract around his fingers, gripping tight. He loved how tight she was, like she had been made for him.

She'd ruined him for anyone else.

He brought her to edge of orgasm again, but stopped before she could fall. _“Killian!”_ she screeched.

“Do you want me, Swan?”

“Fuck, just get inside me. _Please.”_

Killian kissed up her back, rolling her onto her side. He pulled her leg back over his hip, letting his aching cock slide over her folds. They both groaned loudly. Emma reached down and took him into her hand, guiding him to her. He slid in easily, filling her.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Emma gasped. “So good.”

Killian thrust experimentally, groaning in pleasure. He knew she loved this angle; it felt even better now that they no longer had any barriers. He moved slowly, savoring the wet drag of her walls along his shaft. “Hot and _wet_ , fuck.” Emma turned her head and he kissed her, his hand sliding over her breasts. Emma hitched her leg higher, making him sink deeper. Killian's teeth scraped her bottom lip as he groaned.

“Touch me,” she pleaded. “Close.”

Killian moved his hand down to her clit, rubbing the nub furiously. Emma cried out hoarsely, her body trembling hard. “That's it, love. Come for me.”

She did, burying her head in the pillow as she screamed her release. It took all of his willpower not to follow her, his own orgasm just out of reach. But he wasn't ready to let her go. He would never be ready. Killian rolled her back onto her stomach, Emma whining in protest as he slipped out of her. Killian covered her with his body, thrusting back inside with a grunt. Her walls were still fluttering from her previous orgasm, but she cried out anyway, a desperate needy sound.

“ _Yes_ ,” she hissed. “Oh god, don't stop.”

“I want you there again, Swan,” he growled into her ear. He adjusted the angle of his thrusts, searching for that perfect spot to send her careening over the edge once more. “Can you do that?”

Emma tore at the sheets, clinging for purchase, sweat coating her pale skin. “Yes!” she cried. “Fuck, right _there_.”

Killian's thrusts were getting erratic now, perilously close to his own release. He grunted, jaw clenching, striking that spot over and over again. They came together, the pleasure almost blinding. He pulsed as she squeezed, their bodies in sync after many nights (and days) together. Killian rolled off before he could crush her, his chest heaving from the exertion. He stayed close, finding her hand and tangling their fingers together.

“Swan?”

“Hmmm?”

“I love you.”

Slowly, Emma rolled on her side. “Love you too.”

He smiled faintly at her, taking in her lazy contented smile, adoring green gaze. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it before going to get a washcloth for her. She cleaned up and crawled under the covers, waiting for him.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked as he crawled in beside her.

“Never better, love. Why do you ask?”

“You had your thoughtful face on.”

“I have a thoughtful face?”

“Yeah, sometimes...” She looked up at him, slightly embarrassed. “Sometimes I catch you watching me, when you think I can't see you. And you have that face.”

“The thoughtful face.”

“Well, yeah. And I always wonder what you're thinking.”

“Have you ever considered asking?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer. She rested her head on his chest, fingers brushing his stomach.

“I didn't want to intrude.”

“I like to think we've reached the point where we can be honest with each other, don't you?”

“I want to, Killian. I want that with you.” Because she hadn't gotten that with _him_. The emotional closeness that they craved as much as the physical.

Killian kissed the top of her head tenderly. “Then all you need do is ask, my love.”

She let out a breathless laugh. “Okay then, what were you thinking?”

“Just then?” Emma nodded. “I was thinking about how much I love...this,” he explained, gesturing between them. “Having you here with me. How much I don't want to give it up.”

“We'll be careful,” she assured him. “It'll be okay.”

“That wasn't precisely what I meant, but that too.” Killian combed his fingers through her soft hair. “Everyone one I've loved has been taken away from me. Died.” Liam had been only a few years younger than Killian was now. Christ, he'd out lived his _older_ brother. His mother, too, had been relatively young.

And now they would never meet Emma. But if they hadn't died, perhaps he'd have never met her at all. Which was a worse fate?

“I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to be a damper.”

“No, you're not. Life _is_ short. My dad says it's made up of moments. Good ones, bad ones. They're all worth living. I know we can't see the future, but I'd like to live as many of them with you as possible.”

“So one day at a time?”

She laughed. “Something like that. I'm not planning on going anywhere, Killian. I've got a lot. Right here.” She kissed his chest, nose wrinkling in his chest hair. Killian laughed, hand sliding over her hip to where she was ticklish. She screeched and tried to bat his hand away, but he kept tickling her, peels of laughter filling the air.

That warm happy bubble lodged in his chest and he prayed he could hang onto it. Hang onto _her._

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since some geologic inaccuracies have been brought to my attention, I edited this a bit. Hopefully, it generic enough to hide the fact that I'm a historian, not a geologist.

“Your sideburn is crooked,” Emma said from her spot perched on his vanity.

Killian narrowed his eyes, scanning his reflection in the mirror. “No. It's not.”

Emma put down her hairbrush and gently cradled his chin, angling his head. “Yeah, it is. Want me to fix it?”

“Love, I've been shaving since I was a lad of thirteen. I can do my own bloody sideburns.” He didn't want to admit she was right. It _was_ a tad crooked. But how was he supposed to bloody concentrate when she sat next to him in little more than her underthings? All that bare skin was distracting, his fingers itched to touch her.

But he was going to have to be good today. And tomorrow. And the day after that. At least while they were around other people.

Who's bloody idea was this trip anyway? Five days off in a row (special thanks to Robin for hiring a couple of part timers to take up the slack) and they weren't spending it in his bed.

Bloody waste if you asked him.

He picked up his razor and tackled the sideburn again, straightening it. “Better?”

“Was that so hard?”

“No, but something else is.”

“We have to be at the docks in fifteen minutes.”

“You're no fun.”

Emma hopped off the sink; he tried very hard to ignore the way her breasts bounced. She leaned up on her toes, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I got us a room away from the others,” she said, resting her hand on his heart. “You can ravish me all you want when we're alone.”

He hummed, kissing her again, more insistently. God, he loved her. “Reading my mind again, darling?”

“Hey, you're not the only who... _wants_ ,” she reminded him. “But we should probably hang out with other people sometimes.”

He sighed heavily, as if it were a great burden. “As you wish.”

She smiled at him, reaching up to play with his hair. “It'll be fun. I promise.”

Christ, he was helpless against her. He'd give her the bloody moon if she asked for it. “You best get dressed then. Or we'll be late.”

Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot. Emma hopped down from the Jeep, hurrying back to open the trunk. Killian checked to make sure the top was secure before joining her. He lifted the cooler down then hoisted his duffle over his shoulder. “See, we're not late,” he informed her smugly as they trooped back to the _Jolly_. “Will's never on time.”

His face fell a bit when they spotted Elsa waiting by the _Jolly_ 's berth. “You were saying?” Emma teased, elbowing him lightly.

“It's your fault, sweetheart.”

“My fault? How do you figure?”

He caught her wrist, dragging her flush against his chest and kissing her soundly. “Because you're all I can bloody think about since I _met_ you.”

Emma blushed; it amazed him that she could still do that. That she was still a little embarrassed at his devotion to her. “Easy, tiger,” she said with a smile. “We've got company now.”

“So?”

“So ya should keep the ruddy PDA to a minimum, mate,” Will said loudly, clomping down the dock toward them. “I didn't me sick bag.”

“Sod off, Scarlet.” Killian threw his friend a look, then wrapped his arm around Emma's waist pointedly. Besides, if he was right about Will and Elsa, then Will was being a hypocrite. Elsa, for her part, just looked happy for them, smiling knowingly when they finally joined her by his boat. Killian knew he liked her for a reason.

“Sorry we're late,” Emma apologized. “We got a bit hung up.”

“I've only been here a few minutes,” Elsa said, hugging her friend. “Hi, Killian. Will.”

Killian nodded hello, dragging Will off to help him load the _Jolly_ , giving the ladies a few minutes alone. As much as Killian enjoyed having Emma all to himself, he knew Elsa's friendship was important. And he still owed the lass. Big time. She got him a second chance with Emma when he'd utterly fucked up. He couldn't thank her enough for that.

“Ya gonna be like this the whole time?” Will groused, shoving a small suitcase into Killian's hands. “I swear yer worse than a moon eyed virgin.”

“I bloody well am not!”

“Ya keep telling yerself that, Jones. That lass has ya wrapped around her little finger. Sad, really.”

Killian stowed the heavy cooler below. “Is being happy a crime now?”

“It is when you've lost yer balls in the process.”

Killian's hand twitched; he had to fight the urge to knock Will on his ass. “You want to be bitter and alone forever, be my guest,” he snapped. “But I love her. And she loves me. So either learn to deal with it or get the bloody hell off my ship.”

“Everything okay down here?” Elsa said, poking her head through the hatch.

Killian was surprised when Will actually looked chagrined. _I knew it,_ Killian thought. But Will was so caught up in his own past and the pain that went with it that he didn't know how to process. Somehow the gentle Elsa had gotten under his skin; Killian would bet the _Jolly_ on it. He just hoped his friend figured it out before he drove the poor lass away.

“Just fine,” Killian informed her. “I think we've got everything stowed.”

“Well, Robin and Roland are here. They're asking for you.”

“I'll be there in a minute.” Elsa ducked back out. Killian turned to Will. “Just try and be civil,” he said to his friend. “If not for me, then for her.” He didn't elaborate; he knew from the look on Will's face that his friend understood. Will nodded once. Killian turned and headed up the ladder, nearly getting knocked back again when Roland leaped at him.

“Uncle Killian!” Killian barked out a laugh, pitching forward to regain his balance. He lifted the boy up, swinging him up onto his shoulders.

“Roland!” Robin hissed. “What did we say this morning about running on Killian's boat?”

“But Papa...”

Killian spun the lad around once more, then put him down. “It's okay, Roland. But once we shove off, you listen to your papa, okay? And don't get too close to the rail. Can you do that?”

“Yes!”

“There's a good lad.” He gave Roland a gentle push, sending the boy in Emma's general direction. She rolled her eyes good naturedly at him before taking Roland's hand to get him a vest. Killian stood and shook Robin's hand. “Morning, Robin.”

Robin nodded. “He's been up half the night,” he said apologetically. “Tried everything to get him to sleep, but it was hopeless.”

“He'll drop right off once we're out to sea. You'll see.”

“Thanks for inviting us, Killian. It's good to get away for a few days.”

“The Queen keeping you busy?” Killian asked, tongue planted firmly in his cheek. If _Killian_ was head over heels, then Robin definitely was. How else could anyone stand to be around Regina for more than a few minutes at a time?

Robin actually blushed. “I thought we were keeping that a secret?”

“We are. But I just assumed you'd rather spend the holiday with her.”

“I was. But _someone's_ girlfriend brought her an offer she couldn't refuse.”

Killian shrugged. “Nothing personal, mate.”

“No, I think it's great actually. You know this means more work for us, right?”

“Aye. But it's important to her.”

“And to you.”

“If it means we won't have to sneak around anymore, then yes.” That was one of the things that bothered him the most. Emma couldn't come visit him at work. He couldn't visit her. If they went out, they usually went to the next town over where no one knew them. He and his friends had to watch what they said at work. It did add a certain thrill to their relationship, but at the end of the day Killian just wanted to be with her out in the open.

It was part of the reason they were taking this trip in the first place. The Crocodile had its own Independence Day celebration, fireworks, etc. They couldn't go to that, obviously. So Emma suggested they travel to one of the other islands, invite their friends. She and Elsa usually went to the New York fireworks; he didn't want her to miss out on the holiday just because she wasn't at home.

Killian didn't care one way or the other. He just wanted to spend time with her. They'd spent precious little time together since the contracts were signed a week ago. Emma had thrown herself into work; while he admired her determination, he missed her.

Which was incredibly selfish of him. But she was the only thing in his life was purely _his_. He wanted every moment he could get.

“I think we're ready,” Emma said, drawing him from his thoughts. She handed Killian and Robin their vests, looking at Killian, concern in her green eyes. Robin accepted his and left, in search of his son undoubtedly.

“What's the matter?” Emma asked.

“Nothing,” he replied, shrugging on his vest.

“Hey, honesty, remember?”

Killian finished fastening his vest, then turned to do hers. “You're with a selfish bastard, Emma.”

“I think you've earned the right to be a little selfish,” she replied. “Besides, no one's ever been selfish over _me_ before. At least not in the good way.”

He smiled in spite of himself. “Then could I persuade you to stay home?”

She laughed, then kissed him. “You promised.”

“I know and I intend to keep it. I guess I don't share very well.”

“You share just fine.” She leaned in next to his ear. “I've got that blue bikini on,” she whispered. “And all I can think about is you peeling it off.” She smiled mischievously, then hurried off like she _hadn't_ just conjured hundreds of erotic images in his head. Minx.

Killian shook his head, chuckling. She'd be the death of him someday. He was sure of it.

As he promised Robin, Roland was out like a light once the _Jolly_ was on the open ocean. They were headed to Kona on the Big Island for their parade and festival, complete with fireworks. After that, a day shopping for the ladies, then Emma wanted to try Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. Killian had never been; he was usually too busy. But it sounded fun.

He stood by the wheel, watching the horizon intently. Emma was showing Elsa some of the things she'd learned, Roland was below, asleep in the tiny bunk. Robin and Will were having an intense discussion over a beer in the bow. It was nearly noon; they'd probably eat lunch soon. It stuck him like a ton of bricks...this could be his life some day. He and Emma could truly make the islands their home. Once he graduated, there was nothing stopping them. They could have more trips like this, sailing when they pleased, either alone or with their friends. Their own little family of sorts.

He wanted that. Badly. He wanted that more than he'd wanted anything since Liam's death.

 _You would have liked her, brother_ , he thought, glancing toward the sky. _Even though she's far too good for me._

“So where are we?” Elsa called, getting his attention.

“We're passing Lanai,” Killian said, pointing. “It's there on our left.” She followed his finger, blue eyes wide. “Should be there in a few more hours.” Hopefully by dark. He didn't want to dock after sunset.

“Anyone hungry?” Will said. “Starving meself.”

Elsa shot him a look, but Emma agreed. “Will, you and Robin can help me grab the food. We've got plenty.” The men obeyed her with an alacrity that surprised Killian.

“She always was a bit bossy,” Elsa said to Killian.

He chuckled. “I may have noticed that a time or two.” But there were plenty of times that she just let go and trusted him to take care of her.

“She's really happy, you know.”

Killian tightened his hand on the wheel. “That's all I want for her. I'm just glad she chose me, sorry bloke that I am.”

“Don't sell yourself short, Killian. I didn't really get it when she...left. I had no idea how unhappy she was and I'm her best friend. She always puts on a brave face for everyone, including herself. Whatever it is that you did...thank you.”

Killian shrugged. “I didn't do anything, lass.” Nothing except fall in love with her.

Elsa just smiled. “I think you did. I'm glad she has you, even if it means I'll see her less often.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I've got a life back in New York. My sister's there. It's home.”

Killian steered them through another gentle swell. “Home. I used to think that England was home. Then I thought I could make Hawaii home.” He glanced at Emma, kneeling on the deck, spreading out their lunch on a blanket. “Now I think it's wherever she is.”

“Do you think you two will stay here?”

Killian shrugged. “Perhaps. If her project gets off the ground, then I don't see why not. But I'm trying not to look too far ahead.”

“I'll miss her.”

“Do you have no other reason to stay?”

Elsa's cheeks went faintly pink. It was the most color Killian had ever seen from her. “Not at the moment,” she said carefully. “There's a lot I miss about New York.” So Will hadn't done anything yet. Killian didn't know whether to laugh or knock his friend about the head.

“You said your sister's there?”

“Yes, Anna. You'll get to meet her at the ball. She's bringing her boyfriend, Kristoff. She's...very different from me.”

“Different?”

Elsa laughed. “Anna's much more of a talker. If you're not careful, she'll talk your ear off.”

“I'll remember that.” He smiled at Elsa. “You may not say much, but you make those words count, Elsa. And anyone who doesn't see that is a bloody fool.”

Elsa's eyes drifted to Will. “Thanks, Killian.”

“Anytime, love.”

* * *

Emma's alarm was something she'd become increasingly annoyed with over the last week. In her two months in Hawaii, she'd gotten accustomed to sleeping later than she did at home. And even then, she woke up naturally, and not to the screeching of her phone. She reached over to the nightstand and thumbed the alarm off, groaning in irritation. She was warm and sleepy, Killian pressed against her back.

“I hate that bloody thing,” he mumbled, tightening his arms around her middle.

“Me too.”

“Then let's go back to sleep.”

“We can't. We have breakfast, then the parade, remember?”

“Sod it.”

Emma groaned. She wanted to agree with him, but she also really wanted to enjoy the activities they had planned. “I'm getting up.”

She started to move, but Killian pulled her back. “You're staying with me.”

“Killian.” She rolled over, taking in his sleepy features, sleep mussed hair. Even like this, he was so handsome it made her chest ache. She kissed his brow. “I'll make it up to you tonight.”

“Really?”

She gave him a sleepy, but knowing grin. “Remember that thing we talked about?” She dragged his hand down over her body, over her ass, shivering. She was playing with fire, knowing full well what his hands on her body did to her. But she couldn't seem to help herself, even if it was a tease.

Killian's blue eyes pinned her, making her heart race. God, she would never get tired of him looking at her like that. Like she was the only thing he needed. “You are such a dirty girl, Swan.” He crushed her lips to his, clearly fully awake now. “And I love you very much.”

She licked her lips, grinning up at him. “Right back at ya.” She kissed him again, slower this time, knowing they wouldn't get to kiss like this again once they left the room. Those deep soul searing kisses that left her breathless and hungry.

“Hmm, we should get up. Before they come looking for us,” Killian said, stroking her cheek.

“Yeah.”

They reluctantly got up and showered, Emma putting on the cute blue sundress she'd found shopping with Elsa a few weeks ago. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, knowing it would be hot once they left the comfort of the hotel. Killian came up behind her as she was finishing, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Beautiful as always, love,” he said, kissing her shoulder.

Emma could just make out the red and blue plaid shirt he was wearing, paired with her favorite jean shorts. “You're not so bad yourself, babe.”

“Hmm, I like when you call me that.”

“Really?” It always sounded funny in her mouth, but she wanted _something_ for him, since he had so many for her.

He nodded, eyes locked with hers in the mirror. “Although, you making the effort is enough. You don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Emma covered his hands with hers. “No, it's not that. It's just...well, you saw my parents. They're like that all the time, cute nicknames and PDA. I never really thought that was for me. Then I met you.” Neal's idea of public affection was holding her by the waist possessively, like a trophy. It never felt genuine.

“Swan...”

“Killian, I don't want you to change. I don't want _us_ to change. If we're walking down the street and you want to kiss me, kiss me. If we happen to make other people jealous, then I'm okay with that.” More than. Killian was hers now.

“I won't stray far from your side,” he promised, smiling at her. “Not ever.”

“Good.”

They left their room a few minutes later, joining their friends for breakfast in the hotel restaurant. They had a bit of a mishap when Roland spilled a tray filled with scrambled eggs from the buffet, but otherwise it was a very fun (and lively) time. Will seemed to be in a much better mood today, although Emma couldn't fathom the reason. He was sitting next to Roland, which meant he got more food _on_ him, than in his stomach.

“We best hurry if we're going to get a good spot for the parade,” Killian said, downing the last of his coffee.

“No need,” Robin cut in. “Roland and I saved us a spot earlier.”

“You did?” Emma asked.

“That was very sweet,” Elsa agreed. Roland giggled. The boy held her hand the entire way to the patch of sidewalk marked by a green blanket Emma remembered seeing at Robin's house. Will, on the other hand, looked rather put out that Elsa was giving her attention to Roland.

“Bloody hell,” Killian cursed softly. “First, it's you and me, now a four year old. That wanker better get his attitude adjusted soon. Or get laid.”

“Killian!” Emma hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“He's _jealous_ ,” Killian explained in hushed tones. “That's why he was so snippy yesterday. His bitterness was easier for him to deal with when I was alone. Now I'm not.”

“Elsa said that to me once,” Emma whispered. “I didn't think she was serious.”

“Don't get me started on the lass. Will's got it bad for her, but the bloody sod won't do anything about it.”

“How do you _know_ that?”

“You didn't see his reaction when she checked on us yesterday. I did. And Elsa may have implied that his attention wasn't unwanted.”

“ _What?”_ Elsa hadn't said anything to her. Emma was her best friend.

“Ask her yourself,” Killian said grimly. “They might be more stubborn than we are.”

“You're missing the parade,” Roland yelled, looking back at them sternly.

Emma and Killian looked appropriately chagrined, then refocused on the parade. Emma wound Killian's arm around her waist, leaning her head on his shoulder. It was early, about nine thirty, but it was already starting to get hot. Thank goodness they remembered the sunscreen; she should consider buying stock. The parade lasted over almost two hours, with marching bands (which Elsa loved), fire trucks (adored by Roland), and some local Hawaiian favor (appreciated by the boys, except Killian who studiously kept his eyes on _her_ ). Emma just appreciated the atmosphere; she never got to do things like this in New York.

There, they watched the Macy's Parade from her father's building, safely _inside_ from the cold. Down on the street level, amidst all the people, it was different. You could see the smiles on people's faces, smell the cotton candy and other sweets, actually hear the music. Much better than the world from her proverbial ivory tower.

Emma knew her mother wanted her to come home, but she wasn't sure where home was anymore. New York with family who didn't quite understand her and shallow people who only wanted something from her? Or Hawaii with a makeshift new family and a guy who adored her? Wherever she wound up, she wanted Killian there. With her. Mary Margaret Blanchard-Nolan wasn't going to frighten her or intimidate her. This was Emma's life and she was going to live it the way she wanted.

Killian shook her from her thoughts as the parade was breaking up. “Still with me, love?”

“Yeah. I was just...thinking.”

“Something good, I hope?”

She smiled at him. “Yeah. Very good.”

“Ready for an afternoon of fattening food and carnival rides?”

“Definitely.”

Robin left them briefly to take his blanket back to the hotel, but caught up as they were buying some funnel cake. The small fairgrounds were crowded, people everywhere. It was loud, louder than Emma expected, but then again, she had no point of reference. She didn't go to street festivals in New York, her mother thought they were too “common.”

Well, her mother would _hate_ every moment of this. After they finished their funnel cake—Elsa didn't get a speck of sugar on her, Emma had no idea _how—_ they headed for some of the games. Shooting games, dunking games, ring toss, all with their owners shouting about the “amazing” prizes. Much to Emma and Elsa's amusement, all three boys tried their hands at the dumbbell, cursing under their breath. Elsa covered Roland's ears, but Emma just laughed. Killian got the closest, just two feet shy of the bell.

But Emma wasn't surprised. He picked her up like a sack of potatoes all the time. He was well built and strong, something he put to use in _very_ pleasurable ways.

She gave him a wet smacking kiss when he was finished as a reward, not caring that he was sweaty. She liked the way he smelled. Her giddiness turned into a yelp when he hauled her to him by the waist, dipping her back as he kissed her, right there in front of everyone. Emma turned beet red as the catcalls started, random strangers cheering them on.

“We've got an audience,” she whispered against his lips.

“So we do.” He grinned and kissed her briefly, then let her stand. “You did say anytime I wanted, love.”

Her cheeks were still burning. “You're impossible.”

“And yet you love me.” He took her hand, so they could follow their friends, who had discreetly gone on ahead. She should be embarrassed—and she was a little—but more than that, she was just happy. Happy she had someone to share moments like that with, who absolutely _did not care_ that anyone could see them, and just _had_ to show her how much he loved her.

She was finally starting to see how and why her parents had fallen in love and stayed that way for so many years.

They found the others at one of the games—archery as it turned out—with Robin trying to win Roland stuffed monkey. He was better at it than Emma expected, winning _two_ prizes. A monkey for Roland and plain brown teddy bear for...someone? Did Robin have someone? Emma was surprised that she didn't know for sure. She knew his wife had died, but he seemed like too good of a man not to be dating. She'd ask Killian later.

“Would you like a prize, sweetheart?” Killian asked as they strolled along.

She laughed. “Would you win me one?”

“It would be my honor and pleasure.” Oh good lord, there he was talking like he was Mr. Darcy again. Emma saw Elsa giggle out of the corner of her eye. “You choose.”

Emma looked around; there were too many choices! She really thought the whole thing was silly, but Killian looked so earnest, she couldn't say no. He was adorable like this. “How about that one?” she said, pointing. It was a plush dolphin and enormous.

“Ya never do anything halfway, do ya, lass?” Will asked, clapping Killian on the shoulder. “Good luck with that, mate.”

“Bugger off, Will.” Killian turned back to her. “I'll get it for you. You just watch.”

When they got to it, Emma's heart sank a little. The game looked nearly impossible. She was about to call it off, to change her mind, _something_ , but Killian was already in the line. He gave her a cheeky smile when it was his turn, tossing the balls toward the targets. He needed to get seven out of ten. On his first try he did better than most; he got three.

But he got right back in the line, his jaw clenching in determination. After his _fourth_ try, Emma was going to pull him back, but Elsa stopped her.

“Let him be, Emma.”

“But Elsa...” She felt so bad for him, there were some passersby who were laughing.

“I think it's really sweet,” she said.

“But I think I picked the _hardest_ game in here!” she hissed. “And he just keeps going back for more.”

“Well, he loves you.”

“I don't _need_ some stupid stuffed dolphin to know that!”

“Emma, look,” Robin cut in, tapping her shoulder.

Emma looked back at the game; Killian was trying again. This time he had five in with three balls left. If he got two of them in, then he'd win. Emma held her breath as she watched. He tossed the ball in his hand and it went in! He looked over at Emma and she managed a smile. She didn't want him to think she doubted him. The next ball missed wide. He only had one left.

“You got this, babe!” she shouted.

He smirked at her and nodded, turning back to the board. He raised his arm in an arc, a bit like when he showed her how to shoot darts, and let the last ball go. Time seemed to go in slow motion as she watched.

Bells screeched and clanged as soon as it went in; Killian was the first to beat the game that day. He proudly accepted his prize and brought it to Emma. She ignored it completely, yanking him by the shirt until his mouth was fused to hers.

“You are the stubbornest person I have ever met,” she breathed, kissing the corner of his mouth. “And I love you.”

Killian pressed the stuffed dolphin into her arms. “Your prize, milady. I told you I'd get it.”

“My hero,” she deadpanned, hugging the toy all the same. “You are crazy, you know that, right?”

“One of the things you love about me, Swan.” He pressed his forehead to hers, lightly brushing her lips. “You're always worth it.”

“Debatable. Come on, before we get another crowd.”

Emma toted her new toy around the rest of the afternoon. She took it on the ferris wheel (where Killian kissed her at the top), she took it on the Tilt-a-Whirl. Elsa held it when they got on the swings since it wouldn't fit in the swing with her. There was a mini coaster track too; Emma rode it twice, once with Killian and once with her dolphin. She felt ridiculous, but there was no one there to mock her. And it was _fun_.

Around dinner time they stopped at one of the stages that had live music, the girls and Roland saving a spot while the boys got dinner (corn dogs and fries and something Emma couldn't identify). The band was local; they weren't very good, but she was saying that as a jaded New Yorker. Killian stretched out on the ground, his head in her lap. She smiled at him fondly, stroking his hair the way she knew he liked. She could _feel_ rather than hear his contented purr, her cat happy once more.

Was this going to be her life from now on? Hanging out with good friends? Living in a virtual paradise? With a her own company? And her loving, too hot to be real boyfriend? Was this what she wanted?

She wanted her own opportunity as a businesswoman, certainly. She hadn't found it in New York. She'd had to start from scratch (admittedly with some help from her dad) but she finally seemed to be making some headway. She felt good about herself. She knew her plan was good; she enjoyed the interaction with people, the negotiating. She was very close to realizing her dream of doing something _useful_ with her life.

Killian had been the wildcard. Without him, she almost certainly would have returned to New York ages ago, still unfulfilled and unhappy. But he _saw_ her and loved what he saw. He helped her see parts of herself that she hadn't even known existed.

Emma hadn't been sure of _anything_ except her own unhappiness when she arrived two months ago. Now she was in love with great guy and had a chance to make a name for herself as something other than Nolan Tech's heiress. How could her life have changed so dramatically in such a short time?

But Emma didn't want things any other way.

“Ready for fireworks?” Elsa asked, glancing at the darkening sky.

“Yep.” She had to shake Killian to get his attention; somehow he'd dozed off. They followed the crowd down to the beach, where the fireworks would be shot over the water. Will found them a spot on the sea wall with a perfect view of the lagoon. Emma smiled to herself as she watched him brush sand off so Elsa could sit. Maybe Killian was right after all.

“Something funny, love?” Killian asked, his breath hot on her ear.

She had to suppress a shiver. “What was our bet on Will and Elsa?”

“Twenty, I believe. Ready to concede?”

“Nope. Want to change the stakes?”

“Such as?”

She smiled and whispered quickly in his ear.

“Is that really a bet? Or a dare?”

“If you don't want it...”

“I didn't say that.” Killian glanced in Will and Elsa's direction. They were talking quietly. “You're on.”

“Oh, so confident. I like it.”

Killian grinned at her, his hand skimming up her thigh. “Oh, I know you do. You love my _cockiness_.”

Emma had to bite her lip to keep from groaning. Damn him for knowing her so well. “You prepared to back that up?”

“Always, sweetheart.” He kissed her cheek and turned back to the view, waiting for the first fireworks to start. They didn't have much longer to wait, which was good as Roland was getting antsy. Emma had almost forgotten he was there while shamelessly flirting with Killian.

Man, she really needed to get a grip.

She scooted closer to Killian, bringing his arm around her waist. His large hand was warm on her hip, just enough pressure to keep her close. She felt his lips lightly brush her temple and she sighed. She kept her eyes on the darkening sky, waiting for the first boom.

It came moments later, making her jump. She heard Killian's rich laugh in her ear and pinched his side in retaliation. She just wasn't expecting it was all. The first few burst in the sky in showers of sparks, gold and red. Emma loved fireworks. She loved all the different colors and patterns, showers of sparks, stars, high and arching, low and loud, blues, greens, purples, reds. In New York, they were paired with music, and while these weren't, she loved it all the same.

“Well, that was illuminating,” Will said as they followed the crowd back into town.

“I thought they were quite good,” Elsa said, a slight reproof in her voice.

“I just don't understand the point of this bloody holiday,” Will retorted. “Why blow stuff up?”

“Did you know that John Adams was the first to see how we would celebrate our independence? He wrote in a letter that Americans would celebrate with pomp and parades and fireworks for generations to come.”

“And that requires pointless explosions?”

“Roland enjoyed them, didn't you?” Elsa asked.

Roland nodded happily. “They were pretty, Elsa.”

“See? You should stop being such a grouch about everything, Will.”

Emma exchanged a wordless look with Killian. He cocked a brow at her as if to say “see? I told you so.” But to someone who didn't know the two well, they could appear to just be begrudging friends. Emma still wasn't sure what to think about it.

At least the revised terms of the bet would be highly enjoyable. “Summer's not over yet, sailor,” she whispered, nudging Killian with her hip.

“We'll see, darling. We'll see.”

“Oi!” Will yelled. “Wee eyes, ya two saps! No one needs to see that.”

“We're holding hands, you sod!” Killian retorted, holding up their joined hands.

Will scowled but held his peace. Luckily, they were almost back to their hotel. When they got there, everyone said good night and headed for their own rooms. Killian and Emma's was one of the nicer ones, not quite a penthouse, but nice enough. It had a spacious living area with plush nondescript furniture, even its own kitchenette.

Frankly, Emma didn't care about any of that. In fact, they'd hardly _looked_ at those things since arriving the evening before. No, the king size bed and insanely large bathroom were much more to her liking. It had a shower and clawfoot tub, both more than large enough for two. She'd been thinking about using that tub ever since she saw the photo on the site when she made the reservation.

“I'm going to take a bath,” she announced. “Want to join me?”

“Now why would I refuse an offer such as that?” Killian replied with a cheeky grin.

Emma ditched her sandals on her way to the bathroom, followed by her sundress. She smiled to herself when she heard Killian's audible gulp behind her; she'd bought special lingerie especially for this trip. A lacy green strapless bra with matching high cut panties. Casually, Emma bent over the faucet and turned on the water, adjusting it to the right temperature.

“Is this new?” Killian asked, his hand skimming the curve of her ass.

“You like it?”

“Very much.” He moved up behind her, fingers sliding her ponytail over her shoulder so he could kiss and lick at her skin. Emma hummed, a shiver running down her spine. “I've been thinking about this all day, love.”

His hands came around her waist, drawing her back against his chest. He'd stripped off his shirt somewhere between the door and the bathroom; his skin was already warm to the touch. But he always felt warm to her. She didn't know where this desire for him came from, but she didn't want it to stop. It felt too good. Emma angled her head as he bit down gently on the cords of her neck and she moaned in pleasure.

“Let me see you, Swan,” Killian whispered, coaxing her around. He sat her on the vanity, stepping between her splayed thighs. Emma said nothing as he ran his hands over her body, inhaling sharply when he reached a sensitive spot. He knew them all by now, applying just the right amount of pressure to get a reaction out of her. His mouth followed his hands, kissing down her chest, over the swells of her breasts. Emma's back arched, heat pooling low in her belly.

Killian pulled her to the very edge of the vanity; Emma could feel the heat radiating off him, the hard thickness between her legs. “How early were you planning on going out tomorrow?” he growled, thumbs brushing over her clothed nipples.

“Not...early,” she replied. “Why?”

“Because I've got plans for you, sweetheart. Let me?”

Emma nodded, cupping his face in her hands. She kissed him, lips demanding, teeth biting on his bottom lip. “I want everything, Killian.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing him closer. He deftly opened her bra, tossing it to the floor as they kissed, his hands cupping her breasts. She moaned into his mouth, more heat flooding her.

“Fuck, you are so perfect,” he muttered, lowering his head to an aching nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, warm and wet, want shooting right to her clit. It throbbed and ached; Emma ground her hips into the ridge of his pants, a needy whine tearing from her throat. They'd been teasing either off and on all day and now they were finally alone.

“Killian...the bath...”

“Bloody hell.” He kissed her lips briefly, then hurried over to the faucet turning it off. The steaming tub was nearly full, only about six inches to spare. “Come here, Swan.”

Emma hopped off the vanity, her legs a bit wobbly. She was wet and aching, a sharp need settling at the apex of her thighs. Killian was already chucking his shorts, boxers and all, showing her just how aroused he was. Emma reached out to stroke him, needing the feel of him in her hand. He was smooth and hard, a thick vein running the generous length of him. She teased it with expert fingers, relishing his pleased groan.

“What were you saying about cockiness?” Emma asked, leaning into kiss his chest. She followed the trail of dark hair, feeling the muscles tremble under her touch.

“How much you... _fuck_...love it,” he managed, his voice gravelly. “Always so greedy for it, lass.”

Emma twisted her hand around him, just enough to make him curse. “And you love giving it to me.”

He nodded, hands on her hips. “You feel so fucking good, love. I can't stop.”

“So don't.” She let him go, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties. Together they pushed them down and Emma stepped out of them. Killian climbed into the steaming tub, sighing at the warm water. Emma followed, crawling into his lap. The tub was so wide that they weren't cramped, she fit easily on either side of his thighs. They kissed deeply, Emma pressed against him, water lapping at their bodies. She reached between them and sank down on him, letting him fill her.

“Oh god,” Emma moaned, back arching as she rode him. Slowly, letting the water ease her movements. “Yes.”

Killian groaned, hands sliding under the water to hold her hips. He pushed up gently off the bottom of the tub, meeting her halfway, grinding his pelvis into her clit. “Ride me, Emma. So beautiful like this,” he whispered.

Emma moved faster, her own need climbing. She bounced in the water, some splashing onto the tile floor, but she paid it no mind. All she could focus on was the feel of Killian inside her, piercing her, filling her, making her feel _whole._ She'd never felt anything like she did when she was with him; she was addicted, greedy, just as he said.

Killian's hands moved from her hips to her ass, guiding her, their strokes getting more erratic, the water choppier. And then his lips were at her ear, whispering all the dirty things he was going to do to her, how much he was addicted to _her_ too. Emma came with a silent scream, her eyes screwed shut, nails dug into his skin. Stars were still popping behind her eyes when she heard Killian's hoarse shout, his hips bucking under her.

Emma trembled despite the warm water, aftershocks of her intense orgasm stealing her breath. Killian cradled her against his chest, holding her tightly so she didn't sink. She didn't know how long they stayed like that before he got her to move, so that her back was to his chest, the water relaxing now.

“How do you feel, love?”

Emma sighed, stretching out a bit in the huge tub. “Good. My feet were killing me.”

“While I'm glad of it, that wasn't precisely what I meant,” he chuckled.

“Oh. That was good too.”

“Just good?”

“Would I still be here if it wasn't?”

“So you're only using me for the sex? Now the truth comes out,” he said in mock offense.

Emma glared at him, even though he was teasing. It hit a little too close to home for her. He seemed to catch her mood, squeezing her waist. “I know you love me, Emma. Why, I still can't precisely fathom.”

She really hoped he didn't want her to explain, because she didn't even know how to put what she felt into words. Just that meeting him changed her life. In the best way possible. Instead, she turned around and kissed him, slowly, thoroughly, hoping he could _feel_ what she couldn't say.

“We need to get out of this bath,” Killian panted when they broke their kiss.

“Why?”

“Because I'm not done ravishing you yet. And _you_ , princess, have a promise to keep.”

Emma blushed. “I do?”

“Aye. Do you still want to?”

“Yeah.” She'd only tried once before and it was an experience she'd rather forget. She had a feeling Killian was the one to replace _that_ bad memory as he had so many others. “I want you, Killian.”

He kissed her, long and slow; it made her toes curl. God, he could kiss. They finished washing up and climbed from the tub, Killian grabbing them fluffy towels. Emma dried off and wrapped hers around her. She pulled her hair down, letting it flow in the waves Killian liked. She heard him muttering in the bathroom; she didn't have to guess about what. She was nervous, but excited.

Still, she started a little when Killian came up behind her. “We don't have to do this, Swan.”

“No, I want to. I told you, I want everything.” She turned around and stood up on her toes to kiss him. “I trust you, Killian.”

He swept her hair back from her face. “You are so much better than I deserve, but God help me I love you so much.”

Emma drew him down to her, brushing his lips with hers. Her fingers tangled in his hair; they lost their balance, falling into the bed, laughing. Killian opened her towel, biting his lip. “All mine,” he whispered, hands running over her skin. The contrast of rough and smooth always got to her, made her skin tingle and burn. She moaned, eyes falling closed.

“Yours,” she breathed, catching one of his hands in hers. She brought his fingers to her lips, licking the pads, sucking on his index finger greedily. His exploration got curtailed earlier; she wanted him to finish.

“Bloody minx,” Killian cursed. He tore his hand away, using both to trace her curves. “I'm going to make this good for you, love. I swear it.” Emma squirmed under his featherlight touches, so unlike his usual sure hands. He always knew how to touch her though, to make her feel the most pleasure. He started at her stomach, light teasing touches, wet sloppy kisses, the scratch of his scruff on sensitive skin. He teased her breasts, plucking lightly at her nipples, leaving them as sharp points. He touched her everywhere except where she was aching for him.

“Roll over,” he ordered quietly. Emma did so, a thrill rocking through her. She hadn't expected to want this as much as she did, but as last week proved, she wanted it. A lot. Killian kissed a path down her spine, his large hands massaging her skin. Gently, he drew her up on her knees, spreading her a bit wider. She felt exposed, her head still resting on the bed, but she trusted him. Killian kissed the spot where her thigh met her body, hands kneading and squeezing her ass.

“It might hurt at first,” he warned, “just relax as much as you can, okay?”

“Okay.” Emma shivered, wondering what he would do first. She was surprised when she felt his fingers gliding through her slit, gathering moisture. It felt good; she loved when he touched her there. But then she realized his plan, his damp finger slipping over her puckered hole. She sucked in a breath as he circled it, slowly, with increasing pressure.

“Relax, love. I've got you. Breathe.”

Emma nodded, forcing herself to breathe. Still, she gasped sharply, finally feeling the tip of his finger slip inside. “Oh god.”

“Does that hurt?”

It definitely felt _different,_ but it didn't hurt. At least not yet. “No. Keep going.”

“There's my good girl.” His finger moved slowly, sinking a little deeper each time. She felt something _cold—_ the lube presumably—sliding over her skin and she gasped again. Emma held herself as still as she could, letting Killian prepare her. “Hmm, you're so tight,” he said. “Gonna feel so good around me, Emma.”

Christ, his voice never failed to make her wet.

He slid in another finger, opening her wider. Emma moaned, biting her lip at the dull ache. “Touch yourself, love. That'll make it better.”

Emma snaked a hand down between her legs, finding her damp clit. “Oh,” she breathed, a jolt of pleasure shooting through her. _“Oh.”_

“That's it. Make yourself feel good for me, sweetheart.” She got so lost in her own pleasure, she hardly noticed the third finger sliding into her. Killian wasn't small; she was going to need as much as he could give her. He scissored his fingers inside her, stretching her. It felt odd, but good, especially as she touched herself.

“Push back for me, Emma.” She did, rocking her hips back on his fingers. It didn't hurt too much; it was more the strangeness of the sensation than anything else. Killian let out a shuddering breath as he watched her. “Bloody hell, lass. I need to be inside you.”

“I'm ready.” She wasn't entirely sure, but it was now or never. Killian's fingers slipped from her, leaving her feeling a bit empty. There was a rip of foil, then more chilly lube, fingers brushing the rim of her widened hole.

“You tell me if it hurts and I'll stop.” But his voice sounded strangled and breathless; Emma could tell how much he wanted this. Then she felt him, the tip of his cock pressing slowly into her. Emma forgot to breath again and it hurt. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to relax. “Oh fuck,” Killian cursed. “So good.” He thrust shallowly, only the tip of him inside her. “Emma?”

“I'm good.” He pushed in deeper and she gasped. “Shit.”

“Does that hurt?”

She shook her head. “No, just _different_.”

“Finger yourself, Emma. I want to feel you.”

As soon as she did, _everything_ felt better; she relaxed, pleasure flooding her. Killian slipped even deeper into her and he groaned. Emma focused on her pleasure, flicking her clit in time with Killian's shallow thrusts. She enjoyed it more and more, Killian's muttered curses and praise intoxicating, ratcheting up her own pleasure.

“Faster,” she bit out. “Fuck me, Killian.”

“Christ.” Emma could feel him shaking, knowing he was holding back. He took her faster, hips pistoning into hers and she cried out. His fingers dug into her hips; she'd have bruises when they were done. But she loved being the one to make him lose control. Emma rubbed her clit frantically, her orgasm so, so close. She tumbled over the edge moments later, her body going taut. Emma cried out wordlessly, hearing Killian grunt, his hips stuttering as he followed her.

She was still a bit dazed from her high when Killian pulled away and started cleaning up. He lowered her gently to the bed, muttering soft apologies in case he hurt her. She felt boneless, only half aware. It wasn't until Killian gathered her in his arms that she spoke.

“Hey, I'm fine,” she said. Her voice was raspy, but audible. “You didn't hurt me.”

“Was that your first time?”

“The first where I enjoyed it,” she said honestly. There was no point lying, and besides, it was Killian. “And I _did_ enjoy it.” She saw Killian's jaw clench as he realized what she meant. But she didn't want to think about that. She wanted to focus on the here and now. She crawled up higher and kissed him sweetly. “Did you enjoy it?”

Killian laughed hollowly. “Silly lass. Of course I did. I just don't like hurting you.” His eyes fell to the darkening spots on her hip.

“And you didn't.” She sat up. “See? Completely fine. I'm tougher than I look, remember?”

“Oh I know, love. I still can't believe you let me do that.”

“And I'll let you again. And again. You know why? Because I fucking _loved_ it.” She was a different person than she was when she arrived here. A better person. _Herself_ for the very first time. And if she wanted to have hot dirty sex with her boyfriend, then she damn well would.

“Where did you _come_ from?” he asked her. “And why the bloody hell are you with me?”

“I'm with you, Killian Jones, because I love you. Now are you gonna kiss me or what?”

His dazzling smile flashed for only a second before his lips were on hers.

* * *

“Oh, this is not going to work,” Will declared, staring at the van they had rented.

“Why not?”

Will scowled. “Because if Robin drives then I'll have to look at you two fused at the bloody lips the entire way,” he said, gesturing between Killian and Emma. “Not bloody likely.”

“Do _you_ want to drive?”

“Um? No.”

Killian was about to retort when Elsa stepped between them. “ _I'll_ sit with Emma. You two...do whatever. Just try not to punch each other before we get there?”

Will grumbled his assent. Killian merely rolled his eyes. Sitting in the back of a van with a grumpy Will Scarlet instead of his Swan was not his idea of fun. But he was tiring of fighting or whatever it was they were doing. At this rate maybe it was better that Elsa was going back at the end of the summer. At least then Will could go back to the less jealous version of himself.

Before he could climb in, Emma tugged on his sleeve. “Hey, be good, okay?”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Love, I'm always good.”

Her cheeks went faintly pink. “You know what I meant.”

“Aye, but it's more fun to make you blush.”

“One of these days you'll know all my secrets and that won't happen anymore.”

“All of them? Oh, I think we'll be discovering things for a long while to come, lass. But that's half the fun.”

“Oh yeah? And what's the other half?”

“This.” He brought her lips to his, tasting her cherry lip gloss. Will may complain and grouse about his acting like a lovestruck fool, but Killian didn't care. Not when Emma made him feel like this. Like he could take on the whole world by himself, if only to make her smile. “See you when we get there?” Like she wasn't going to be three feet away.

“Looking forward to it, sailor.”

“Yes, yes, it's such a burden _not_ being attached at the hip,” Will said, pushing past Killian and into the van. Killian squeezed Emma's hand briefly then followed him, digging around for the bloody seatbelt. He did a brief silent check on everyone else's before Robin pulled out of the parking space, trying to ignore the prickly feeling he got whenever _he_ wasn't the person driving.

Some things never went away completely.

It had been a long time since he'd had a nightmare about Liam's accident. In the beginning, he had them all the time, the breaking glass, the screeching tires. Liam's final words. Over and over in his head. It was why he wouldn't go near a car until circumstances forced him to. Then once he'd started fixing cars he triple checked to make sure he'd done it right because he knew what failure could mean. Someone's life. It made him a bit of a perfectionist, a bit difficult for people to work alongside him.

He was surprised at how much _lighter_ he felt since Emma came into his life. He still thought about Liam, but it wasn't with as much sadness. He tended to think of the good times now. He hoped his brother—wherever he was—was happy for him. Killian would fulfill his promise, honor Liam's memory and get on with his life. With Emma.

After seven years, he was finally moving forward.

“The trees are _fascinating_ ,” Will drawled, pulling Killian from his reverie.

“Can't you ever give it a rest?” Killian asked.

“I'm a sarcastic bloke, you know that,” Will defended.

“Aye, but you've never been _mean_. Not even in the beginning.”

Will looked uncomfortable. “A lot's changed.”

Killian glanced at Emma and Elsa in the seat in front of them. They seemed engrossed in a conversation of their own, the surrounding traffic drowning most of it out. “Some things have changed. But I'm still your friend. I don't want that to change.”

“Ya want me to be nice to the lass? I've been!” Killian raised a brow. “Okay, mostly. Sometimes me mouth isn't directly attached to me brain. Sue me.”

“This isn't just about Emma and you know it.”

Will's gaze flickered in the direction of white blonde hair. “Yer imagining things.”

“You want to delude yourself, fine. But I've seen you. You're drinking less, you pay attention when she speaks, even if it's not to you. I know you, Will Scarlet. There's nothing wrong with moving on.” It was past time. Ana wasn't coming back.

Will was silent for a long time. Killian shrugged and dug out his phone, opening up his Kindle app to read. Might as well get some work done on the two hour drive.

“She's too good for me.” The words were so quiet, Killian almost missed them. He could tell Will was trying desperately to not be overheard.

Killian chuckled. “I know the feeling, mate. It's there every time I wake up with her in my bed.”

“So what'dya do?”

“Honestly?” Will nodded. “Hold her a little tighter and pray she doesn't notice.”

Will rolled his eyes. “That's five star advice right there. Ya could start yer own website with that.”

Killian sighed in exasperation. “Look, if you want to live like this, I can't stop you. But you won't know until you try.”

This time Will nodded. Killian only hoped he listened.

They changed the subject to England's chances of making the World Cup, something both of them were much more comfortable with. They were speculating which group they'd get in the off chance they qualified when Robin pulled up to the entrance to the park. Even though he should know better, Killian was surprised at how _green_ things were. It was beautiful; Mother Nature at her finest.

 

“Wow,” Emma said as they piled out of the van. “Can't find _this_ in New York.”

“I should think not. Even though that's an island too.”

Emma swatted his shoulder, but pretending to look severe. “So's England, remember?”

“Aye, but England doesn't have every square inch of space covered in concrete.”

“True.”

“Everyone ready?” Robin asked, holding a squirming Roland. He was a bit antsy after so long in the van. They all nodded. Killian took Emma's hand and followed Robin into the visitor's center. It turned out they were just in time for the introductory film, so after a quick stop at the restroom, they settled in to watch. Killian saw Will out of the corner of his eye sitting next to Elsa; he wondered if his friend had decided to take his advice.

After the film, Killian, Emma, Will and Elsa took Roland to explore the exhibits while Robin got an update on the park closures. Kilauea Volcano's continuous eruption had closed off much of the road around the crater. Emma bought an armful of books at the bookstore, much to Killian's amusement.

“Becoming interested in science, love?” he asked, helping her haul them to the van.

“Shut up.”

“Perhaps you had the wrong major,” he teased.

“I like sounding like I know what I'm talking about,” she said defensively. “And this is your fault anyway.”

“My fault?”

Emma tossed her bag of books into the back of the van. “For showing me how much I was missing out on,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You're welcome.” He smiled down at her and leaned in for a kiss.

It was Will (again) who snapped them out of their bubble. It was so easy to forget the rest of the world existed when he was holding her. “Oi! Places to go, bloody volcanoes to see. Get a move on, you two!”

They laughed and followed Will and Elsa into the van. Their next stop was the museum down the road, which was supposed to have a good view of the crater. “We'll have to backtrack after this, but the view is supposed to be spectacular,” Robin said. “I hope you brought your cameras.”

“I did,” Elsa said, holding up what looked to be a very expensive camera.

“Oh good, you take great pictures,” Emma replied. “Remember those ones of the lighthouse near the beach house?”

“Yes! Dad has one of them framed in his office.”

“You're a photographer?” Will asked, sounding surprised.

“Only for fun,” Elsa said, blushing. “It's something I can do by myself.”

“Elsa, every gallery in New York would kill to have some of your work.”

“Which is why they don't.” Killian sensed a story there, but didn't want to pry. “But I can see you get these after I upload them.”

“Excellent. That's better than crappy pictures taken on my phone.”

Emma did wind up taking some pictures on her phone, however. They all did. The view, as promised, was amazing. They could see the smoke and steam of the ongoing eruption on the far side of the crater, It was a gorgeous day, only a few fluffy clouds in the deep blue sky. They took the trail out to the next overlook where they had a gorgeous view of the peaks and horizon. Killian answered Emma's questions as best he could; he only had a smattering of geology, but it was passable.

Roland complained that he was hungry so they decided to use the nearby picnic area for lunch. They talked about what they would do next; Elsa wanted to see the lava tubes, Emma the steam vents. They did the steam vents and sulphur banks first, but didn't stay at the latter long. The smell of sulphur was overwhelming, assaulting their noses, making the van smell a bit like rotten eggs. Will groused until the air conditioning filtered it out.

“I hope no one's claustrophobic,” Killian said as they trooped down the walkway to the lava tube. The foliage was brilliant along the trail; Roland hopped and pointed at every bird he could see, making them all smile. He reminded Killian a bit of himself when he was that little.

“How tight are ya talkin'?” Will asked.

“You'll be fine, Scarlet.” Will stood a few inches shorter than him; he wouldn't have any trouble.

Killian and Emma went through first, the lighting in the tube just enough to see by. Still, there were shadows that hid curves in the trail. Emma wasn't paying attention and nearly fell, slipping on the damp trail—and taking Killian with her—but he managed to keep them upright.

“Are you okay?” Emma asked worriedly.

“I'm fine, lass.” Still when he rolled his shoulder, he winced. “Ow. Might've wrenched my shoulder a bit.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault, love.”

She was still checking him when they heard a yell from behind them. Elsa had lost her footing in her camera flash and taken a tumble of her own. By the time Killian and Emma backtracked, Will was kneeling at her side.

“I think it's just sprained, lass. Maybe bruised.”

“Emma, take my camera,” Elsa said, her voiced strained. Emma accepted the camera and Killian and Will helped Elsa up. Will kept his arm around her waist, encouraging her to lean on him.

“I think we're almost out,” Emma informed them. “We'll get a better look outside.”

Elsa's fall put a bit of a damper on the rest of their tour, but she insisted they finish. She mostly stayed in the van with Will, but lent Emma her camera to take some more pictures. They had planned on going back to the museum after dark to see the eruption, but opted to head back to Kona instead. Elsa would need to rest her ankle before they headed back to Oahu the next day.

“I had fun today,” Emma said quietly as they lay in bed that night.

“Me too.”

“Tired though.”

“Aye. And we have to be up early.”

“Ugh. Do we have to go back?”

“You don't want to go home?”

“I do. But then we'll have to work and I won't see you as much.”

“Might have to get used to that, love. If this project of yours takes off, we'll both be busy.”

“I know. Doesn't mean I like it.”

“We'll make time for us, sweetheart. Don't worry.”

“I'm not _worried_ , I just don't want things to change. We've got a good thing.”

“And we'll still have it. Just with some new wrinkles.”

Emma looked down at him curiously. “Well, now I'm intrigued.”

“See? This will keep us on our toes. You'll see.”

“I can think of a few things that already keep us on our toes.” She lowered her head and kissed him, making him forget everything except the feel of her body pressed against his.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Emma padded through the apartment as quietly as she could. It wasn't often that she had to wake up before Killian, but she'd gotten a call from Regina's assistant Graham at _seven_ in the morning, informing her that Regina wanted to have a meeting promptly at nine. So she had an hour to shower, dress and find some breakfast before heading over to the resort. No warning, just _come_.

Just who the hell did that woman think she was? God? Sheesh.

But Emma knew Regina wasn't the most pleasant person to work with. She had some very definitive ideas, most of which clashed with Emma's. They'd been tangled in a tug of war ever since that first meeting. Emma was mostly winning, but sometimes she got the feeling that Regina pulled crap like this on purpose just to piss Emma off.

She'd been looking forward to a lazy morning before heading over to The Crocodile, since Killian had the afternoon shift in the garage. It was probably the last they were going to get since there were only two weeks left until the big night and there was  _so_ much still to be done. Their July Fourth holiday felt like a distant memory, one Emma missed more than she let on.

She'd brought this project on herself and she was damn well going to finish it. All this hard work would pay off, then she and Killian could take a nice long vacation.

She crept out of the bathroom, half dressed, heading for the cramped closet. Killian didn't have  _that_ much of a wardrobe but when she added the things she'd brought with her and all the things she'd bought since  _arriving_ ...it was getting tight. Maybe they should look for a new place?

Holy shit, did she just think that?

But what was the big deal? They were already living together...more or less. She was still technically paying for the bungalow, but Elsa was staying there. Avoiding detection aside, it would have been difficult for them to be  _alone_ with Elsa hanging around. Not that Emma didn't love her friend, but there was something to be said for having sex with her boyfriend on whatever surface they happened to be on whenever they wanted. Although Emma wished they could have used the hot tub before she'd moved out.

They still had time, right?

Emma brushed the thought aside and picked out a cream silk blouse to go with her black skirt. She found her black pumps and stole a look at Killian as she headed for the kitchen. He'd fallen back to sleep almost as soon as she'd gotten out of bed. It was no wonder with how hard he was working. Between his shifts at the garage and his thesis, there were nights he didn't get to bed until after midnight. When she asked him why he was working so hard, he told her he wanted to move up his graduation to December.

They'd only spoken in rough terms about the future. It was very much an open ended question. Sometimes Emma was shocked to recall that they'd only been together for about two and a half months. It felt like longer. Killian knew things about her no one else did; she trusted him implicitly. They'd settled into life with an ease that should have frightened her, but it didn't. It was like they were  _supposed_ to be like this; they simply had to find each other.

Maybe they could talk about it later. Over dinner? They hadn't had anything resembling a date in a while. She missed those. Going out somewhere, flirting shamelessly like two lovestruck teenagers, then coming home and loving each other to the wee hours of the morning.

She'd ask him when they talked later. He always sent her a text when he got to work; they checked in several times during their days. It gave her something to look forward to when she examining floral arrangements or on the phone with a potential investor.

Emma fixed a small cup of coffee in the microwave (it wasn't as good as the coffeemaker, but she didn't want to wake Killian) and grabbed a couple of strawberry NutriGrain bars. Not the healthiest breakfast, but she was in a hurry. One bar went in her briefcase, the other she munched on as she gathered the files she'd been looking at the night before.

Emma checked the clock, cursing under her breath. If she didn't get a move on, she would be late. She hurried back to the bed, brushed a kiss over Killian's brow and slipped on her shoes. On her way to the door she grabbed her briefcase and keys, shutting the door quietly behind her.

She got to the ballroom with five minutes to spare. There was a crowd around Regina; Emma could just make out her dark head in the middle. She was speaking to someone who looked familiar, as she got closer, Emma recognized Robin. What was he doing here? She mentally thanked her lucky stars that Killian was safely in bed.

“I see you finally deigned to join us, Miss Nolan,” Regina said, parting the crowd as if by magic.

Emma didn't blame anyone for giving Her Majesty a wide berth.

“What's this all about, Regina? I was going to be here right after lunch. Couldn't this have waited?”

“Since you've all but taken over my resort, I thought a logistical meeting was in order,” Regina replied smoothly. Emma was right; the woman had invented this meeting just to screw with her. Wonderful. “We've got very little time left.”

Like she didn't know that. Emma forced herself to smile. “Sounds fair. Would you like to introduce everyone?”

Regina went around the room introducing the various department heads. Emma was surprised that Regina delegated even that much, but since The Crocodile was a year round multi million dollar resort, the other woman probably didn't have a choice. Most of them were pleasant enough, but didn't seem to want to be there any more than Emma did. They probably had better things to do than have Regina breathing down their necks.

“And last but not least, this is Robin Locksley, head of our garage. He and his crew will be organizing all the transportation.”

Robin smiled and held out his hand. “It's delightful to see you again, Emma.”

Regina frowned. “You two know each other?”

“Miss Nolan had a flat tire some weeks ago,” Robin explained without a trace of irony. Emma exhaled; good lord, she nearly forgotten about that. It was much better explanation than how she _really_ knew him.

“Yes, I remember. It was quite late. Sorry about that. Again.”

“It was no trouble, I assure you.” When Regina looked away, he winked at her.

“Yes, well, that's...fine.” Regina shooed Robin away, declaring the meeting at an end. Emma watched them exchange some words; they looked...cozy? They were definitely standing closer together than they should. For a boss and employee. Interesting. Emma shrugged, deciding that since she was here anyway, she should get some work done. Regina had lent her a small office to work from.

She'd just sat down when Regina appeared in the doorway. “There were a few other matters we have to discuss, Emma.”

Emma fought to not roll her eyes. The woman was a control freak. “Of course. Have a seat.”

Regina did, crossing her legs and smoothing down her skirt. “Have you looked at the receipts for the signage? And the flowers?”

“Yes, I've seen them. Is there a problem?” The flowers were local, but the signage and banners they'd had to order from the mainland. They were scheduled to arrive any day.

“I was merely wondering if you'd calculated them into the budget for this event. The flowers alone are twenty percent higher than quoted.”

“Yes, Mr. French said that could happen. We've ordered some exotic and rare plants, Regina. Which is why we have a discretionary budget.” She had to maintain her patience.

“And you're still insisting on your 'under the sea' theme?”

“What's wrong with that?”

“I had assumed this was an event for _adults_ , Miss Nolan.”

This time Emma did roll her eyes. “For heaven's sake, Regina. It is. But look at this place! This entire resort has a fairy tale quality to it. What's wrong with having a little fun? Contrary to popular belief, people from New York do know how to have fun.”

“Mr. Gold...”

“I don't _care_ what Mr. Gold does or does not want. This is _my_ project. You said it yourself, if you deliver him a healthy bottom like he _doesn't care._ ”

“You may want to check your guest list, Miss Nolan. This may not be as successful as you think.”

“What are you talking about?”

Regina pulled out an envelope. “You never saw this. Shred it as soon as I leave,” she said mysteriously. With that, the other woman got up and left.

Emma frowned, a worry line creasing her brow. What was going on? She got up and shut the door to her office, then tore the envelope open. Inside, she found a series of emails. As she read them, her heart sank. It seemed that Neal was still trying to sabotage her. Emma opened her laptop and pulled up her guest list. Sure enough, nearly half of the people Neal had contacted had already RSVP'd, but according to the emails...Neal had changed their mind. Neal's friends, of course, were only too happy to go along with him, but it was the others that pissed her off. Some of them were family friends, people she'd known her whole life—not that she  _liked_ most of them, but they were very influential and had deep pockets.

That fucking bastard.

Emma forced herself to breathe. She couldn't do anything about Neal. He was a snake, a bitter asshole who only saw her as an object. Did he really think she'd come crawling to him to fix this? No. Fuck that. The Golds were powerful, but so were the Nolans. And Emma had a secret weapon.

Her mother.

If anyone could swing things back in Emma's favor, it was Mary Margaret Blanchard-Nolan. The technical aspects of Nolan Tech were her father's domain. But the company's reputation? It's influence in New York society? That was her mother. Her mom ran the family's social calender like a general; underneath her gentle exterior was a tough lady who didn't take no for an answer. Emma knew that better than most.

All Emma had to do was swallow her pride and ask her mom for help.

After their last conversation, Emma wasn't sure how much her mom wanted to speak to her. But they would have to mend fences sometime, right? Despite their clashes, Emma  _did_ love her. She was her mom, of course she did. Emma just wished her mom understood her.

There was only one way to find out. She got out her phone and dialed. It was afternoon in New York; there was a chance her mom was busy. She almost hung up after the fourth ring, but then the line crackled.

“Emma?” Her mother's voice was thin and hard to hear.

“Mom? Where are you?”

“Going through the tunnel. I can barely hear you.”

“Listen, can you call me back once you get home? I need to talk to you. It's important.”

“Of course, Emma.” There was a pause, Emma heard muffled voices. “I should be home in half an hour. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, that's fine. Talk to you then.” They hung up and Emma wondered what she should do in the meantime. She checked her emails, fired off some replies. It seemed _some_ things were going well. The ballroom would be clean by the end of the day and the decorations could start going up. Emma went through menu options, place settings...she'd forgotten how much work something like this was. Her mother made it look effortless.

Right on time, Emma's phone rang. “Mom?”

“Hello, Emma. Sorry about earlier.”

“Why were you in the tunnel?” Lincoln Tunnel went to New Jersey. Why would she go there?

“Visiting a friend. Now what did you want to talk about?”

Emma was still confused, but decided it could wait. “Well...I know we haven't been...good of late...”

“You mean, my inability to understand why you flew six thousand miles to get away from me?”

“Mom, I didn't...” Crap, now what?

Mary Margaret sighed. “I'm not a fool, Emma. I know that's what you did. Your father and I have talked about it. A lot actually. And while I'm still not  _happy_ that you felt leaving was the only way, I'm glad that you're happy.” She sounded more resigned than happy, but Emma would take it at this point.

Emma scrubbed her face with her hand. “I am happy, Mom. Hopefully you'll understand why when you get here.”

“Speaking of that, we won't be getting in until the night before. The Mayor is throwing his daughter's engagement party the day we were going to leave.”

Figures, Emma thought. “I was hoping we could all have dinner together before the ball, but it's okay. You can meet Killian at the ball.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Crap, no. Sorry.” She leaned back in her chair. “I got some bad news this morning and I was hoping you could help.”

“What is it?” Her mother sounded much more alert now.

“I don't know how much Dad has told you. Did you know Neal was here?”

Mary Margaret inhaled sharply. If there was one thing she and her mother agreed on, it was Neal. “What's he done? He hasn't hurt you?”

“No, I'm fine. He left. Weeks ago. But he tried to stop me, Mom. And now he's trying to ruin this by convincing people not to come, promising all sorts of things.” He'd also called Emma from pretty vile things, but she didn't tell her mother that.

“Who? Which people?” Emma gave her the list, her mother getting more and more angry. “I am going to have some words with Mrs. Gold the next time I see her. See if she can knock some sense into that stepson of hers.” That was Mary Margaret's way. Indirect hit. Sneaky, but effective.

“Which I appreciate that, I was hoping you could...”

“Talk to everyone else? Of course, honey. Just send me the list and consider it done.”

“Really?”

“If this is important to you, then of course. Believe it or not, Emma, I want to see you successful. If this is what you want to do, then we're here for you.”

“Thanks, Mom. It means a lot to me.”

“Just do me one favor.”

“What's that?”

“Have Christmas with us this year. You...and Killian.”

“Mom, are you sure?”

She heard her mom sniff on the other end of the line. “You're my only daughter, Emma. I don't want to lose you to my own stubbornness. I want to hear all about this new life of yours.”

It was more than Emma could have hoped for. She didn't know where her mother's change of heart had come from (she strongly suspected her dad had said something), but she was so grateful. “I want that too, Mom.”

“Now what else is going on, aside from this Neal drama?”

Emma laughed, thankful her mom was changing the subject. She didn't want to get all sappy on the phone. She realized that her mom could be a great resource, so she bounced some ideas off her. It was the best conversation they'd had in years.

After they hung up, Emma checked the message from Killian.  _Missed you this morning._

She smiled.  _Sorry. Got called in early by Her Majesty._

_Pity. I was hoping to share my shower._

Emma squirmed a bit in her seat, an image of them wet and soapy flashed before her eyes. Damn it. _I thought you hated sharing?_

_Not when it comes to having a gorgeous lass in my bed._

_Or the shower?_

_And the kitchen, the desk, the hood of my Jeep..._

_Okay, I get it. Should I be jealous that you're having all this sex?_

_Not as long as I'm having it with you, love._

_Rain check?_

_Definitely._

She decided to wait and tell him about her talk with her mom. That really was something she wanted to tell him in person. She let him get back to work, then went to get some lunch from one of the resort restaurants. She got a call that her signage had arrived so she decided to get out of the office and check it personally. She was probably doing too much herself, but she didn't have anyone she trusted yet. Maybe after, she could hire an assistant or two. But that depended on where she and Killian decided to settle. Should they stay on the North Shore? Honolulu? Somewhere else?

So many questions. But she didn't have to figure it all out alone. She and Killian could decide together. That was a nice feeling.

The clerk at UPS was helping her load the banners into her car when her phone rang. “Hey Dad. What's up?”

“Your mother told me something very interesting tonight.”

“That we shared a moment? Yeah.”

“I'm sorry it took her so long, sweetheart.”

Emma sighed. “It's okay. What did you say to her?”

“Who says I did anything?”

“Come on, Dad.”

“Okay, okay. I asked her what _her_ mother would do if she were in your mother's place.”

“Grandma Eva?” Her grandmother had died long before Emma was born; her own mother had been a child.

“Your mother really looked up to her. She often said that her mother was everything she wanted to be. But above all, her mother wanted her to be happy.”

“Well, whatever you did, thanks, Dad.”

“Anything for my little girl.” There was a pause. “I'm...sorry if I played any role in you feeling like you needed to leave, Emma. I had no idea you were so unhappy.”

“I tried not to be. But it just got to be too much. Do you think we can all start over?”

“I know we can. We'll see you in a couple of weeks, okay?”

“Definitely. Love you.”

“I love you too, Emma.”

Well, that was a turn of events she hadn't expected. Maybe something good would come out of Neal's meddling after all. She really did want her parents' support.

She stopped back at the resort to drop off the banners and check on a few other things. Then she headed for the market to get some ingredients for dinner. She and Killian had a lot to talk about.

Emma was surprised when she saw his Jeep in the driveway. He wasn't supposed to be home yet. Worried, she carried the groceries upstairs and let herself in. “Killian?”

No answer. She dumped the groceries and her briefcase in the kitchen before kicking off her shoes. “Killian? You home?” His apartment wasn't that big; he had to be somewhere.

She found him in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet. “What happened?” she asked, kneeling down beside him. Her hand skimmed his forehead; he was warm. He tried to shy away from her, but she wouldn't let him. “Hey, it's okay. I'm right here.”

“I...don't want...you getting...sick,” he coughed.

“Killian, unless this is something you ate, I'm probably going to get it. We live together. Now hush.” She kissed his temple, brushing his damp hair back. “How long have you been like this?” He was fine earlier.

“An hour or so. Hard to tell. Robin brought me home.”

“Why didn't you call?”

“I knew you'd come home.”

“So?”

“You're busy,” he choked out, before dry heaving over the toilet again. Emma held him as he gagged, trying to soothe him.

“You're really dumb, you know that?” she said as he stilled, but it carried no bite.

“Sorry?”

“You better be, mister,” she said sternly. “Can you stand? Just to the sink, I promise.” Killian nodded. She helped him up; he leaned on her the two feet to the sink. She hadn't realized how _heavy_ he was before. She gave him a once over, his eyes were glassy, a bit unfocused, he was shivering. “Anything hurt?”

“A bit achy all over, really,” he replied, eyes falling closed. “Between that and the heaving and the other...”

“Other?” But Killian's raised brow let her know. So vomiting _and_...yuck. “You really should have called me.”

“I've been looking after meself for a while now, love.”

“If it were me, would you want to know?”

“Of course.”

“Then stop being a baby. We're in this together, okay?”

He nodded. “'M sorry, Emma.”

“It's okay. Did you eat anything weird today? I'm not a doctor, but it sounds like food poisoning to me.”

“One of the...” Killian tried to stand more upright, but swayed. “Bloody hell. One of the new guys brought in something. No idea what it was.”

“Do you want to go to the ER?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Stubborn ass. “Fine. But if you're not better by tomorrow, then we're going. No arguments, got it?”

“As you...wish.”

“I was going to make us dinner, but that won't be happening now.”

“I'm sorry, lass.”

“Hey, it not your fault. I'll just make something for me. We'll see if you can eat some crackers or something later. But you should definitely drink something. Let me get changed and we'll take care of you, okay?”

He squeezed her hand before she left the bathroom, giving her a weak smile. Emma ducked into the closet and quickly stripped out of her work clothes, donning something much more comfortable. She came back and helped Killian to their bed—it was closest to the bathroom should he need it—then got him some water.

“Drink,” she ordered.

“So bossy, Swan.” He took the glass from her and sipped at it. “You know how much I like that.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Really? You're gonna try that now?”

“'M still a man, love. And you're bloody stunning.”

“One of these days I'll show you bossy, sailor. Drink a bit more, please.”

He did, downing about half the glass. “Hmm, tastes bloody awful.”

“That's because you've been throwing up. It'll get better.” She wiped at his brow again, gently stroking his cheek. “Will you be okay for a little bit? I want to eat before I tell you what happened today.”

“Go on, love. I'll be fine.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Hurry though.”

“I will.” She headed for the kitchen and made herself a couple of sandwiches. She ate them quickly, digging in the cupboard to see if they had any crackers. She would try them on him later, if his stomach settled. She got food poisoning once when she was about twelve; the new cook had made some bad Stromboli, her whole family had gotten sick. So she had some idea of how miserable he felt.

She brought two more glasses of water—one for each of them—then crawled into bed beside him. “How do you feel?”

“Like hell.”

She felt so bad for him. “Hey, come here.” She sat up against the headboard and drew his head into her lap. “If you need to go to the bathroom, just let me know.”

“You don't want to see it, trust me, love.”

“You took care of me when I was drunk, remember? I don't mind taking care of you, Killian.”

He nuzzled his nose into her stomach; it tickled. “You smell nice.”

“Um, thanks?” She combed her fingers gently through his hair. “Do you want to hear about my day?”

“Aye.” She started with the somewhat bogus meeting Regina called, regaling him with Regina's flustered expression when Robin shook her hand. “He's better at keeping a secret than I thought,” Killian mumbled into her stomach.

“Huh?”

“Robin's dating Regina.”

“He is?!” Emma screeched. She settled when she felt Killian wince. “Sorry. But seriously, what the hell?”

“Shhh. It's a secret.”

“Well, I gathered that. How long?”

“Since before you and me, I think. Although I didn't find out until recently.”

“I'll be damned.” Emma decided she would keep their secret; it could come in handy in case she and Killian got caught. They only needed to get through the next month or so. They'd been lucky so far.

Killian growled dangerously when she told him about Neal. Even in his weakened state, he was angry on her behalf. She squeezed his hand. “Yeah, well, Neal did accomplish one thing.”

“What's that, love?”

“I talked to my mom.”

“You did?” He raised his head up. “How did...” Then a wave of nausea overtook him and he bolted for the bathroom. Emma started to follow him, but he begged her to wait. Emma bit her lip, but did as he asked. As much as she wanted to be there for him, he still had his pride.

After about ten minutes, she spoke. “You okay in there?”

She heard the water running, then he was staggering to the door. “Bit better now. Sorry.”

Emma shook her head. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him; he buried his head in her neck, she could feel his warm breath. But at least he wasn't shivering anymore. “Back to bed?”

“Aye, then finish your story.”

She made him drink some more water before she continued; she didn't want him to get dehydrated. When resumed his place in her lap, she went on. “It was...good. A bit tense at first. But I think she's gonna be okay. With us. With everything.”

“How?”

“She said that she and my dad talked. I talked to him too, by the way.”

“You did have a full day.”

She smiled. “Yeah. Anyway, Mom is going to work on all those people the Neal turned.” Damn, she still hadn't sent that list. She'd do it after Killian was asleep.

“That's good of her.”

“I think she feels a bit bad about things. Not that it's all her fault. I messed up too.” She should have tried to make her parents listen, make them understand, instead of running away.

“But then we wouldn't have met,” Killian said, as if reading her thoughts.

“Now _that's_ scary.”

“Indeed. I love you too much to imagine my life without you, Swan.”

She smiled fondly down at him, still stroking his hair. “I love you too, Killian. I was thinking about that today. Us. The future. We're going to have to decide some things.”

His brow furrowed. “Such as?”

“Um, where we're going to live? What happens after summer is over? You still want to graduate in December, right?”

“Very much. I don't want to waste anymore time. I want us to start our life together, my love.”

“And I've still got all my things in New York. I'm assuming you want to stay here?”

“I am content wherever you are, Emma. _You're_ home for me.” He kissed her hand. “But I was hoping you'd want to live here.”

“Here as in _here?"_ She gestured around the apartment. “Or here as in we find a bigger place somewhere?”

“I'm not _overly_ attached to this place. I'd love a place that was _ours_.”

The way he said that made her heart clench. “Been giving this a lot of thought?”

He flushed, even though he was sick. “A bit. Is that alright?”

It was great to know they were on the same wavelength. That seemed to happen a lot. She rubbed his cheek. “Yeah. It's more than alright.”

“Did we just decide to move in together?”

Emma laughed. “Well, ignoring the fact that we already kinda  _do_ , yeah, I guess we did. Big step, huh?”

“Every step with you has been big, sweetheart. And I've loved all of them.”

“I really wish I could kiss you right now.”

Killian groaned. “Bloody food poisoning. I'm sorry it ruined our evening.”

“Hey, don't worry about it. We'll make it up some other night. We should go out soon. We haven't in a while.”

“Eager to show off your devilishly handsome beau, Swan?”

“No one uses that word anymore.”

“I thought you enjoyed the way I talked?”

“I _do._ Way more than I should.”

“What's wrong with that?”

“Nothing. But you know American girls. Suckers for an accent.”

“The only American girl I'm interested in is _you_ , darling.”

“I know.” She toyed with the hair at his nape. “Think you want to try some food? A few crackers maybe?”

“Can't hurt. I still feel awful.”

Emma bent down and kissed his forehead. He sat up slowly, and she hurried back to the kitchen. She brought the pack of crackers she found and topped off a glass of water for him. It was getting a bit late, but Killian didn't seem to be sleepy. Emma wasn't sure she want to sleep either if she thought her gastrointestinal tract would act up.

“Want to watch Netflix? Or read a book?”

“Would you read to me?”

It seemed an odd request but she nodded. “Sure. Anything in particular?”

“Down in the chest.”

Emma went to the chest at the foot of his bed, flicking open the clasps. She'd never seen inside it, even though she wondered. She thought Killian would share when he was ready. She dug through the contents, some old school reports, a few broken toys and...”Harry Potter?”

“What's wrong with that?”

Emma shook her head. “Nothing. Just didn't peg you as a Potterhead.”

Killian snorted. “I don't know about  _that._ But my mother used to read them. Then I read them to her.” The  _when she was sick_ went without saying. And Killian had kept them all this time. Just when she thought she couldn't love him more, she finds a way to fall just a tiny bit harder.

“Shall we start at the beginning then?”

Killian nodded. Emma hadn't read them in a while; it took her a minute to find the right one. The covers were different from hers. She pulled out  _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ and closed the chest. Then she crawled into the bed, took a sip of water, and started to read. She tried it in a terrible imitation of his accent, which made him laugh.

“No need to do that, Swan. Just read it as you normally would.”

“Okay.” She kissed his cheek, smiling as he burrowed into her side.

She was still reading when she realized he was asleep. Emma gently disentangled herself, marking the place where she stopped. She fired off an email to her mom with the list, then tried to sleep herself.

* * *

Where the bloody hell was his shirt?

Killian looked through the hamper again, praying that he hadn't thrown in there by accident. After a week of being pushed every which way by work and being ill (Christ, that had been awful, even though he got to spend time with Emma. He hated being sick.), they were finally going to go on a date. Nothing fancy, just dinner and a movie.

But it was a much needed reprieve from the whirlwind their lives had become. Killian would be glad when this ball shenanigans was over and they could start doing fun things, like searching for their own place.

_That_ made him happier than he had any right to be. To know that what they had could last.

He finally found his shirt—midnight blue, a gift from Emma—in the back of his closet, sandwiched between where his clothes stopped and Emma's began. Based on that alone, they  _really_ needed more space.

He finished dressing and headed out. Emma was going to meet him at the little diner, Elsa dropping her off. He idly wondered what she'd be wearing since spending time with Elsa inevitably meant adding to Emma's wardrobe. Elsa certainly knew how to shop. Killian got much enjoyment out of peeling off Emma's latest dress or terribly short shorts. She seemed to like it too, almost as if she were taunting him, testing his self control.

Didn't she know by now that he  _had_ no self control when it came to her? He never really had.

The diner was just a tiny little place, a bit 50s, with metal tables and stools at the bar, checked table cloths. But it was out of the way, not far from the arcade he'd taken her on their first date, so it was unlikely that they'd know anyone. Killian got them a table in the corner, ordering a beer while he waited.

“This seat taken?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

Killian looked up from his phone and nodded. “Aye, my girlfriend will be here any minute. Apologies, lass.” The girl was around his age, dark hair, brown eyes. He'd have been tempted a few months ago. Now Emma was the only woman he wanted.

“Are you sure?” she asked again, brushing her hand over his exposed forearm. “Cuz it's sad for someone like you to be all alone on a Friday night.”

“He's not.” The girl jumped back as if electrocuted, her brown eyes wide. Emma smiled innocently, her hand on his shoulder. “Hey babe.”

He grinned at her. “Hello, love.” He swallowed as he took in her curvaceous form, wrapped in black fabric, leaving little to the imagination. It was a struggle to keep his hands to himself as she leaned down to kiss him, giving him a clear view down her dress. He hummed against her lips, his body stirring already. Jesus, the things she did to him were unreal.

The girl was gone by the time Emma straightened up and slipped into the seat across from him.

“Impeccable timing, Swan,” he said, still smiling. Emma was beautiful all the time, but there was something unique about her tonight. He just couldn't put his finger in what it was. Her golden hair flowed down her back and around her shoulders in elegant curls, her makeup was soft and perfect, a contrast to the dress she was wearing. Or rather the dress was wearing _her_.

He couldn't take his eyes off her.

“You seemed to have it handled.”

“I was explaining that my very beautiful and very _possessive_ girlfriend would be here any moment,” he said with a smirk. “And there you were.”

“Who's says I'm possessive?” But Killian could feel her foot running up his leg.

Killian shrugged. “Well, you did just kiss me in full view of room filled with people,” he pointed out. And a woman who was trying to flirt with him.

“Maybe I just missed you.”

He took her fingers in his. “I missed you too, lass.” He'd been missing her all week; the only time they got was hurried breakfast in the morning and sleeping side by side at night, curled around each other. “And you look fantastic.”

She blushed. “Thanks. Although I do feel a bit over dressed.”

Killian waggled his eyebrows. “Nonsense. You are perfect.” She could wear a sexy dress anywhere she wanted as far as he was concerned.

“The look on your face was definitely worth it.”

“You do love to torture me, Swan.”

The waiter came by and took their drink orders, Emma joining him in a beer. This wasn't really a wine kind of place. “How is this torture?”

Killian leaned forward. “Because all I want to do is march you to the bathroom, push that tiny little dress up and have my way with you.”

“You want me with the dress on?”

“Then we'd go home and I'd peel it off you. Slowly. Tease you until you beg.”

Emma swallowed, her skin flushed. “Too bad I've got other plans.”

“Do you now? Care to share?”

“Where's the fun in that?”

“Just so long as these plans involve me, lass.”

Emma slipped her foot between his legs, rubbing the crotch of his pants. “Oh, they definitely do.”

It was Killian's turn to swallow. Christ, he was hard as a rock and they hadn't even ordered food yet. “Don't go into the office tomorrow,” he said.

“Why?”

“I think you know why, darling.” They wouldn't be sleeping very much, of that he was already certain. Their pent up desire too acute for anything else.

“I'll see what I can do,” she replied noncommittally. He didn't miss the way she squirmed in her seat or the warmth in her cheeks.

Thank god, it wasn't just him.

They managed to eat without too much (more) trouble. The way Emma devoured her burger and fries was a contrast to her sexy appearance. But it was one of the things he adored about her. Despite her upbringing, she was a real person, not at all stuck up. He would never have guessed that at their first meeting, but he was very glad to be wrong. He swiped a bit of ketchup off her lip and she surprised him by sucking it into her mouth.

“Swan.”

“Hmm?”

He had finally regained his equilibrium and she had to go and do that. “Keep that up and we'll be skipping the movie.”

“I thought you wanted to see it?”

“Well, I would, but perhaps I want you more.”

Emma shrugged. “I  _was_ looking forward to making out with my boyfriend in a dark theater...”

“I wouldn't want to deprive the princess of any pleasures.”

“Then maybe we should go then.” Emma ducked into the bathroom to freshen up while he paid their bill. She took his arm when she returned and he helped her into his Jeep, unable to resist giving her ass a firm squeeze. He was very fond of that part of her, especially since their trip to the Big Island.

Damn it, he was going to have to calm down if he wanted to drive anywhere.

The theater was on the other side of town, on the edge of a tiny strip mall. After helping her down—he didn't even know how she walked in those shoes, but her legs looked great—they got two tickets and headed for their theater. They managed to find seats in the back; for a Friday night, the theater wasn't crowded. Perhaps it was the movie they'd chosen, some black comedy action concoction Robin had recommended.

Emma pushed back the armrest that separated them and sat as close to him as she could. Which Killian did not mind in the slightest. He loved the feel of her soft curves pressed against him. He kissed her temple, settling back to watch the previews. Nothing spectacular, except the new Marvel movie. He loved those. He wondered if Emma had seen any of them.

Before he could ask, he felt her lips on his neck. “Bloody hell,” he hissed softly.

“Problem?”

“Not in the slightest.” He tipped her head up and kissed her lips, thankful that the opening score drowned out his moan of pleasure. Fuck, it had been too long since he could kiss her like this, her sweet mouth tangled with his and no other cares in the world.

Emma's hand snaked up his shirt, pulling on buttons, her hands warm on the freshly exposed skin. “Are you trying to seduce me in a public theater, Swan?” he whispered in her ear.

“Is it working?”

He dragged her hand down to the crotch of his pants, pressing it against the tented fabric. “Fuck yes.”

Emma palmed him through the fabric, biting his earlobe. “I can't wait,” she muttered softly. “I thought I could, but I need you, Killian.”

Killian slid his hands over her body, fabric bunching in his fists. “I've wanted you since you showed up, love. Bloody hell.”

She brought one of his hands between her legs, hitching her dress up. She wasn't wearing anything underneath it. Again. Fuck, she was already wet. Wet and slippery and he just couldn't resist shoving a finger inside her heat. He kissed her to swallow her gasp of surprise and pleasure. He fingered her slowly, her head buried in his shoulder, as he looked around to see if anyone had noticed them. No one did.

Killian lifted her into his lap, pushing the dress up to her waist. Her lips were hot and demanding on his as she dragged his hand back to her slippery cunt. “Fingers inside me,” she hissed.  _“Now.”_

He obeyed her automatically, her demanding tone going directly to his cock. Fuck, he loved when she took control, knew exactly what she wanted. He wasted no time, pushing three fingers deep inside, curling them just right. She bucked in his arms, body shuddering in pleasure, a strangled moan tumbling from her lips. She kissed him again to muffle her cries, arms around his neck. His other hand squeezed her hip, encouraging her to ride his fingers, to chase her pleasure. She stiffened when her orgasm crashed over her, clinging to him tightly. He stroked her through it, drawing it out until she whimpered softly.

He was painfully hard, almost desperate to be inside her, but he let her catch her breath, let her call the shots. She was still breathing hard when she kissed him again, fingers in his hair. “Love you,” she whispered. “So much.”

Killian stroked her back, still fully aware of where they were. Still no one had seemed to notice them...yet. “Swan,” he said in a strangled whispered.

“Let me,” she replied, kissing him. With more grace than he thought she could muster under the circumstances, she slithered off his lap until she was kneeling on the floor in front of him. A brief tug of her dress and she was reaching for his pants. Killian spread his legs to give her more room to maneuver, biting back a groan.

Holy fuck, she was going to suck him off right there and then.

He hissed as his cock sprang free, her warm hand around him in an instant. She stroked him briefly, her tongue darting out to lick the head. Killian's hips bucked up off the seat; it took what little control he still possessed _not_ to cry out. There was no telling what she had in store for him with that wicked mouth of hers.

Emma didn't hesitate, she sucked him into her warm wet mouth, laving him with her tongue. Killian's hand gripped the armrest hard, trying to maintain some kind composure. If he moaned too loud, they would get caught. That, if anything, made the whole thing hotter, his hips jerking in her hold. He leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closed, trying to _breathe_ , as Emma worked him over. His free hand delved into her hair, not hard; he just wanted to feel the silken strands between his fingers.

Emma hummed around him; Killian's eyes flew open, his breath hitching, heart becoming erratic. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. He licked his lips, eyes falling to the shadows in front of him; he could just make out Emma in the dark, head bobbing in earnest, her lips wrapped around his cock. He felt like he was going to explode, his release resting on knife's edge, needing just a little more to fall.

Then Emma slowed down and he let out a strangled cry that sounded dangerously like a whine. He needed to come, he needed to watch her take everything he had to give, right there on that (surely) filthy theater floor, where she knelt before him like a goddess.

“ _Emma,”_ he hissed, hips rocking up into her mouth. _“Fuck.”_

She managed to catch his eye in the dim light, mouth still on him, her hand slipping down into his pants. She fondled his balls, making his eyes roll back in his head. Then she was moving again, faster and faster, her tongue tracing the vein the rain the length of him until he brushed the back of her throat, then he was coming and coming, Killian biting his lip so hard he drew blood to keep from crying out.

She licked him until he was spent, slumped back in his seat, panting.  _Holy Mother of Christ._

Killian didn't even pay attention as she fixed his clothing and slid back into the seat next to him. He still had stars popping behind his eyes from what might have been the most intense orgasm of his life.

“You okay?” Emma whispered, fiddling nervously with his hand.

“Hmmm?”

“Killian?”

“'M fine, lass. That was...”

“Insanely reckless but very hot?”

He smiled. “Something like that.”

“Are you sure you're alright?”

“I just had a goddess at my feet, love. I am far better than alright.”

She laughed nervously. “I just wanted to make sure nothing was broken.”

That finally got him to look at her. “Broken?”

“Did you think we were done?”

“I know you— _us—_ better than that, Swan.”

“Good.” She kissed him sweetly—he could still taste himself on her lips—then snuggled into his side for the rest of the film. It seemed idiotic to watch it now, but Killian had to admit he needed the recovery time. She'd done a number on him, as only his precious Swan could.

And he wanted to be ready for whatever she had planned when they got home.

“I missed this,” Emma said as they walked hand in hand from the theater. Killian never had figured out what was going on in that bloody movie, but since he spent most of the rest of it casually kissing Emma, he found that he didn't particularly care.

“Missed what exactly?”

“Us. Going out, having fun. Remember the arcade?”

Killian grinned. “How could I forget? You nearly beat me at that bloody racing game.”

“Then you bought me ice cream.”

“Which you shared.” They reached the Jeep and Killian casually pressed Emma against the door, leaning close, but not quite enough to kiss. Her lips were still swollen pleasantly, green eyes bright in the lamp light.

“And then you kissed me.”

He cradled her cheek in his hand. “I think I loved you from that very first kiss,” he murmured. “I couldn't get you out of my head.”

“Now we don't have to.”

“No. We don't.” He closed the gap, lips on hers, her fingers tightening in his shirt. She sighed into the kiss, teeth scraping his bottom lip, making him shiver. He could spend his entire life kissing her and it wouldn't be enough.

“Let's go home,” she whispered.

Killian nodded, tearing himself away from her. He opened the door and helped her up, then went to get in himself. His apartment was just far enough away from the theater to be annoying; he wanted them  _home_ , right  _now_ , so they could enjoy each other away from prying eyes.

Emma pounced on him the moment he closed the door to his apartment. She dragged his mouth down to hers, kissing him fiercely. He growled into her kiss, hands going automatically to her hips, fisting the material of her tiny dress.

“Swan...what...?”

Emma put a finger to his lips. “No talking. Only I get to talk. And you will do exactly as I say. Can you handle that?”

He couldn't help it; he sucked in a breath, heart beginning to race. She  _loved_ hearing him talk, telling her all the filthy things he wanted to do her. And how she was asking him  _not_ to? And to be completely at her mercy?

His cock twitched just thinking about it.

Killian swallowed and nodded. Emma grinned up at him and he kissed the finger still pressed to his lips, determined to get in one last act of defiance in before she started ordering him about. Emma hummed low in her throat pressing her finger harder against his lips until he opened for her, sucking on her finger. She worked the buttons of his shirt free with her other hand, yanking the material from the waistband of his pants. She only got it half off before her lips were on his skin, the hairs of his chest ticking her nose as she kissed and licked at him.

“You're so warm,” she mumbled, sliding both hands over his chest and abs, tickling his ribs. “I love how warm you are, the way you shiver when I touch you.”

Killian made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, remembering that he wasn't allowed to talk. Her tongue circled his nipples as she got his shirt the rest of the way off. She knew all those hidden places that made him ache for her; she was the only one who knew his body like this. His pants were constricting, but he didn't move; he didn't want her to stop.

“Get on your knees.”

Killian raised a brow at her, but did as she asked, sitting back on his haunches, leaving his mouth level with the tops of her thighs. Did she want him to...? His silent question was answered when she hooked one lean leg over his shoulder, her dress riding up her thighs.

“Do you know what I want?” she asked huskily, peering down at him.

He took a chance, his rough hands gliding up her legs, pushing the dress higher. Emma moaned, her hips rolling; he caught a glimpse of her wet pink slit, practically begging for his touch. He kissed the inside of one thigh and nodded, hands settling under her ass to steady her.

“Go on then.”

He started slow, tongue darting out to lick her. He loved the way she tasted, tangy and sweet; he lapped at her like a starving man. Emma moaned loudly, her hips rocking. He sucked on her clit, taking the swollen nub between his teeth and running his tongue over it. Emma yelped, her hands diving into his hair, forcing him harder against her, wantonly riding his face.

“ _Again,”_ she whimpered. “Fuck, _again_.”

He repeated his actions, sucking harder, sliding one hand up between her spread legs. He teased her entrance with his finger, still working her clit, listening to her moan above him. He slid two fingers inside her, pumping frantically. She came with a sharp cry, pulling on his hair, body quivering. He held her steady, licking her clean as she came down from her high.

Killian didn't move as she lifted her leg off him and sank down in front of him, kissing him hard. “I love when you do that,” she said. “Do you enjoy it?”

He nodded again, stealing another kiss. More to fight his urge to talk than anything else. He loved anything that brought her pleasure. Emma lifted his hands to her shoulders. “Strip me,” she commanded softly. “I want your hands on me, Killian.”

Killian growled again, all too eager to comply. He reached around, finding the zipper and dragging it down. He deftly parted the fabric that covered her from his sight, sliding the straps off her shoulders and down her arms. She wore nothing underneath; indeed, the dress was far too tight to allow for anything. His cock twitched again, realizing that she had been like this all through their date, naked except for the tight black cloth.

She was trying to kill him.

She allowed him to slide the dress down her legs, leaving her nude before him, save those insane heels she was wearing. She left them on, taunting him. His hands were back on her skin in moments, moving over her ribs, her taut stomach. He touched her in all those places that made her writhe, more of her arousal coating her thighs. Her nipples were puckered and hard, and he fondled and pinched and twisted, needing to  _hear_ her mewls and whimpers, to know exactly how good he made her feel.

“Fuck, it feels so good,” Emma moaned, her back arching. “It's never...been like this.”

He certainly hoped not. The idea of someone else touching her already dredged up some feelings he didn't want to examine too closely. She was  _his_ .

“I need...oh god, I need you in me,” she panted, already reaching for his pants. _“Now.”_

They were still in the middle of his living room floor, but he wasn't about to argue with her. They got his pants and shoes off in a frantic tangle of limbs, then she pushed him down on his back. She straddled his hips facing  _away_ from him; their moans of pleasure echoed in the room as she sank down on him, taking him deep inside her. She was slick and hot and so fucking  _tight_ like this; he nearly came on the spot. But he gritted his teeth and held on, watching her curls bounce as she rode him.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Emma breathed, bracing her hands on his legs for leverage. “So _big_ like this. Fuck, it feels so good. I love the way you fill me.”

God, she never talked like this during sex, like  _him,_ and it was such a turn on. He leveraged his hips up—or tried to—but she shoved him back down. “Soon,” she assured him. “You can fuck me soon.”

She moved slower than he wanted, on purpose no doubt, rising and falling in an elegant arc that nearly drove him mad from want. He needed to drive into her, imprint himself on her, ruin her for anyone else. He jerked hard when he felt her fingers brush along his cock as she moved, Emma moaning as she touched herself.

“I think about you all the time,” she whispered, moving just a _little_ faster. “Holding me...touching me...fucking me. _Ah_.” She trailed off with a deep moan, her body tightening. He could tell she was close. He skimmed his hands over her ass and lower back, his own moan of pleasure clawing its way out. Emma braced one hand on the floor as she came again, walls squeezing him, his name falling from her lips.

He was so close himself, but he managed to hold on, barely. He sat up, lifting her off and taking her to the nearest surface he could find; his desk as it turned out. Emma nodded in approval as he bent her over it, hitching one of her legs up, spreading her wide for him. He sank back into her with a groan, taking her with deep sure strokes.

“You like that?” he rumbled into her ear, past caring about her _rules._ “My cock deep in that greedy cunt?”

Emma moaned again, nodding. “Yes, so fucking good.”

He turned her head just enough to kiss her sloppily, one hand slipping between them. He gathered moisture from her sopping flesh, bringing his thumb to her ass. He circled her puckered opening, pushing gently until he slid in to the first knuckle. Emma hissed and mewled, bucking back against him.

“Yes!” she cried.

“My dirty princess,” he muttered, his orgasm painfully close now. _“Come.”_

She did and so did he, bodies jerking and spasming, Killian spilling himself deep inside her. He peppered her sweat slicked skin with kisses, lowering her leg as he slipped out of her. She lay sprawled across his desk panting for air, a lazy smile barely curving her lips.

“Emma?”

“Hey.”

“Think you can make it to the bathroom, love?” he asked, idly stroking her back.

“Help me?”

“Sure.” She'd been put through the ringer—at her own request—the least he could do was look after her. Gently, Killian lifted her into her arms and carried her to the bathroom. There, he got them both cleaned up, Emma sitting on the edge of the vanity. “Better now?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Killian lifted her chin, thumbing the dent. “You never cease to surprise me, Swan.”

“Oh yeah? Well, you tell me once that you didn't mind me being aggressive.”

“Mind? That was bloody spectacular.”

“Hmm, I had fun with it too.”

Killian leaned in and kissed her chastely. “So did we convince you  _not_ to go to work tomorrow?”

Emma cocked her head. “I suppose Elsa could cover for me again. Like when you were sick? But Sunday we _have_ to take you shopping for your costume.”

“As you wish.” He didn't care as long as he got the entire day with her.

She grinned. “I love you too.”

* * *

“Come on, Killian, we're gonna be _late,”_ Emma yelled. He was muttering something about coffee when Emma had seen him last. She pulled on her shoes and grabbed her bag; Elsa was supposed to pick them up any minute. Her rented car had more room than Killian's Jeep, which was important since there would be four of them headed down to Honolulu for the day.

Apparently, _Will_ was going to be Elsa's plus one to the ball. Emma wasn't sure how she felt about that yet.

When Killian emerged from the kitchen, his hair was still sticking up all over the place. Emma recrossed the room to where he was putting on his socks and shoes, and started smoothing it down. “I thought you liked my hair mussed?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, but this isn't _mussed_. This is 'I spent the last twenty four hours having really good marathon sex.' hair.”

“And who's fault is that?”

She scowled. “Shut up.” She really liked his hair, okay? And his scruff and the way his muscles played under his skin when she touched him, and...good grief, she really needed to put a lid on it. They had important things to do today and they had spent nearly the entire day before in bed. Surely, she'd gotten him out of her system by now.

Emma ignored the voice that told her she'd never get him out of her system. And that she didn't want to.

Killian gently cradled her wrist and brought it to his lips. “You're cute when you're pretending to be annoyed with me, sweetheart.”

“Who says I'm pretending?”

“I say. I can see it in your eyes.” He stood; she could feel the warmth radiating off him. Warmth and solidness that she was so desperately attracted to. “But I can keep a secret.” He winked and kissed her before moving around her to the door. “Coming?”

Damn, she was never going to get used to this, was she? Being drawn to him like a magnet, the sweet, sweet ache in her chest whenever he looked at her.

It was a good thing she'd fallen in love with him, huh?

Emma rolled her eyes and followed, locking the door behind her. Elsa was already waiting for them; Will in the front seat beside her. Emma and Killian piled in the back, where they were greeted to the smell of bagels.

“You are a life saver,” Emma told her, snatching the bag. Her stomach was starting to growl and they had a long drive ahead of them.

“Aye, thanks, Elsa,” Killian agreed, digging in the bag too.

“I thought we could all use a little pick-me-up,” she said, smiling in the rearview mirror. “Everyone ready?” They all nodded. Emma didn't miss the way Killian's eyes darted around the car, checking everyone's seat belts. She caught his hand in a gentle squeeze, offering him a comforting smile. He nodded and squeezed back; it wasn't until they were on the open highway that he relaxed enough to eat his bagel.

The drive was uneventful, minus Will and Killian getting into an argument about which road to take into the city. Emma caught Elsa's eye in the mirror and smiled; Elsa mostly ignored them, following her car's GPS. The best clothier on the island was in Honolulu; Emma hoped they could find something for them. It was way too late to order something from the mainland.

Elsa parked in one of the parking garages and they all got out. Emma stretched her arms over her head, working out the kinks from sitting so long. Killian raised a brow at her as her shirt rode up, but she stuck her tongue out at him. Teasing him was far too much fun.

“So I thought we'd try Gaston's first,” Elsa was saying. “They mostly do suits, but when I called, and explained what we were looking for, they agreed to try. What do you think, Emma?”

“It's as good a place as any. They can take the boys' measurements, then we could all get some lunch or something.”

“It's like we're not even here, mate,” Will said to Killian in a stage whisper.

“Will, I think this the perfect time to defer to the ladies. Just grin and bear it, Scarlet.”

Emma smothered a grin and squeezed Killian's hand. She appreciated that he was willing to slide a little out of his comfort zone to help make this a success. Hopefully, this would be relatively painless. And maybe kind of fun.

Gaston's was around the corner from the parking garage; it looked like an old fashioned haberdashery built in rich woods, plopped right down in the middle of a modern city block. The tiny bell jangled as they stepped inside and the shirt round man behind the counter jumped.

“Oh! Good morning, Mr. and Mrs....”

Emma held out her hand. “Emma Nolan. This is my boyfriend, Killian Jones.”

“Excellent to meet you, Miss Nolan.” The shake was weak, perfunctory, before the man turned his attention to Elsa.

“Elsa Arendelle,” she said, shaking his hand too. “This is Will Scarlet.”

“Yes, we spoke on the phone, Miss Arendelle. What can we do for you ladies today?”

“We were hoping you had something suitable for a masked ball?” Emma said, glancing around the shop. There were dozens of suits, but there were a few with longer coats, tuxes. They might get lucky.

“You are not the first to inquire about such a thing,” the man—Lafue—assured them. “We've had several inquiries along those lines in the last month or so. Some charity event on the North Shore, I believe?”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, that would be me.”

Lafue's eyes about bugged out of his head. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting _that_. “Oh dear! Yes! I thought your name sounded familiar. One moment.” He dashed back through a door, leaving all four of them a bit nonplussed.

“That happen to you often, love?” Killian asked, chuckling.

“That was nothing,” Elsa assured him. “Emma's had waiters trip all over themselves.”

Emma rolled her eyes. Sure, her name got her into exclusive clubs and great tables at restaurants, but that got really tedious after a while. But in this case, she would deal with it. The boys needed costumes and that was that.

A few minutes later, a much larger—and well built—man came out, looking impeccable in a tailored suit. “I am Monsieur Gaston,” the man said with a heavy French accent. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Nolan.” Emma shook his hand, but he was already sizing up Killian and Will. “I believe I have just the thing, if you gentlemen will follow me.”

Killian, who was a good three inches shorter than Gaston, looked a bit skeptical, but Emma gave him an encouraging nod. Elsa did too and the boys followed Gaston back to the fitting room areas. Clearly, Emma's connection to the event had gotten the owner himself to look after them personally. Score one for the Nolan name.

“How do you think they'll do?” Elsa asked, looking nervously toward where the boys had disappeared.

“Killian might be okay,” Emma replied, heading over to a rack filled with ties. “Will on the other hand...I'm expecting him to be screaming bloody murder any minute.”

“He's not that bad, Emma,” Elsa chided.

Emma bit her lip. Was this the right time to talk about this? “So, uh...”

“Go ahead. I know you want to.”

“Are you and Will, you know, a _thing_?”

Elsa went a bit pink. “I think so. Maybe.” Emma looked skeptical. “We've been taking things very slow,” Elsa said defensively. “I wasn't even a hundred percent sure he liked me until I fell on that lava trail.”

“How romantic,” Emma said sarcastically.

“He can be really sweet. You just have to get to know him.” Elsa picked up a green silk tie, holding it up to the light, then discarded it. “He hasn't had the best relationship luck either.”

“Yeah, Killian told me.” Still, it was hard to get past how nasty Will had been to her in the beginning. “How do _you_ feel about it?”

Elsa stopped pretending to look at ties. “He makes me laugh,” she said honestly. “And he can be infuriating, true, but he...gets me, you know?”

Emma glanced back toward where Killian was. “Yeah, yeah, I get that.” Will and Elsa did both kinda retreat from the world after their previous relationships ended. “If you're happy, Elsa, then I'm happy for you.”

Elsa smiled. “Thanks, Emma. I mean, it's not like you and Killian...”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Elsa just gave Emma a _look._ “You guys just have...something. You're never far from each other, you're always touching. It's _cute_ ,” she assured her, when Emma's cheeks got hot. “But it's also...kinda intense, if you know what I mean?”

Emma thought about the way her muscles still burned pleasantly after their love making the previous day. She liked being able to feel him when he wasn't there. If that made them...intense or whatever, well, who was she to argue?

“It's...hard to explain,” Emma said finally. “It's almost like...and god, this is so incredibly cheesy...but it's like...we're two halves of a whole? If that makes sense. Life is just better when we're together.”

“You really are head over heels for him, aren't you?”

Emma shrugged. “Definitely not what I expected when I came here, but yeah.”

“I'm glad that you're happy, Emma. Really. And Killian's great.”

“What do you think will happen with you and Will?”

Elsa chewed on her lip. “I don't know. We haven't talked about anything like that yet. Anna's already going to flip.”

“Do you think she won't like him?”

Elsa shook her head. “Nothing like that. But she was starting to think I was never going to date again.” She laughed. “Guess I showed her, huh?”

“When are she and Kristoff coming?”

“Soon. And yes, they are bringing our gowns, I double checked with her this morning. She's stopping by your parents' place tomorrow.”

“Oh good.” Emma had a bright red ball gown that was perfect, but it was in her closet in New York. Her mother was supposed to bring it, but since her parents got delayed, Anna volunteered. “Do you think we're taking the fairy tale thing a little too far?”

Elsa's ice blue eyes went huge, looking over Emma's shoulder. “Why don't you see for yourself?”

Emma frowned but turned around. Her jaw dropped. “Killian?”

“Aye, love. What do you think?” He was dressed...well, like a prince. Black pants, fitted black boots. White shirt, open at the neck, covered by a black patterned waistcoat. The outfit was completed by a long brown coat with a high black collar. The sleeves were a bit long, and the waistcoat needed to come in a little, but otherwise he was perfect.

“Um, wow.”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“Would you rather be a pirate?”

“Hmm, all leather? I think it would suit me, no?”

Emma walked over to him, lightly touching the fabric. “I really like it, Killian. Like _really_.”

He stood up a bit straighter. “Do I look like the dashing prince then?”

She nodded. “Very dashing, Mr. Jones.”

“Well, if you approve, then I think I could be persuaded.”

Emma pecked his lips. “How's Will doing?” she whispered.

Killian chuckled. “Poor bloke's gotten stuck about fifteen times.”

“Do you think he'll make it?”

“If it puts a smile on Elsa's face, he will.”

“I hate it when you're right.”

“No, you don't.”

Emma gave him a little shove. “Make sure he shortens the sleeves and takes in the waistcoat, but tell him we'll take it. As soon as Will's done, we'll get lunch.”

“I do love it when your pushy.”

Emma's cheeks burned, remembering their date, how she'd been _pushy_ when they got home. _“Go.”_

Killian left, still grinning like a fool. Another half hour later, the boys were done, orders placed. Their costumes would be delivered by Wednesday, just in time. Emma let herself relax; it finally felt like everything was coming together.

 


	12. Chapter 12

“Hey, you okay?”

Killian tore his attention from the evening traffic. “Aye.”

Emma didn't look convinced. “You looked far away.”

“I was just thinking.”

“Not having second thoughts, are you?” He knew she was teasing, but he still detected just a _hint_ of fear and worry in her tone. He wondered if that would ever go away, that she would accept his utter love and devotion as a matter of course.

Killian took her hand, resting it on the gear shift. “About meeting more of your friends? Of course not, love.”

Less than twenty four hours left before D Day, as Emma was calling it, and they were having a small dinner with Elsa, Will and Elsa's sister and her beau. Her parents would be arriving soon, but had insisted that Emma not come to meet them at the airport. As the ball approached, Killian was forcefully reminded that there was a entire aspect of Emma that he didn't really know. Elsa was the only friend or family he had met so far. Emma had spent the entire summer inserting herself into  _his_ life; he didn't quite know if he would fit into hers.

“You're not nervous?”

“Are you?”

“No! I want to introduce you to everyone. In fact, I'll be happy when this summer's over and we don't have to sneak around anymore.”

He grinned at her. “I've been thinking much the same, sweetheart.”

Emma squeezed his fingers. “As  _soon_ as this ball thing is over, we're looking for our own place. I promise. If you're not too busy, that is.”

“I'm nearly finished. All I need is the readings for August, then I can wrap the whole thing up.” It was a wonder what he could accomplish when he really applied himself. Not that Killian hadn't been working hard before. But settling into a life with Emma had given him the motivation he needed to finish. He had most of his thesis drafted, he simply needed those final sets of readings to verify his findings. Dr. Teach told him not two days ago that there shouldn't be any problem with him graduating in December.

Emma turned into the entrance to The Crocodile. “Really?

“Really. It's a wonder what you can accomplish with the proper incentive, Swan.”

Emma raised a brow at him. “Incentive?”

“Why, spending more time with my gorgeous love, of course.”

She tried to look stern, but he saw her blushing. “You don't get enough of that now?”

“I could never get enough of you, Emma.” It had been that way since he met her.

“I guess we'll see about that.” They pulled into Emma's bungalow a few minutes later, back by the rear entrance, just in case. Emma looped her arm through his as they headed for the back door. She rapped once on the door then opened it with her keycard. “Elsa?”

“Emma!”

But it wasn't Elsa. The woman who came bounding in their direction was a little shorter than the tall and slender Elsa. And this woman had ginger hair. Killian only caught a brief glimpse of her face before she enveloped Emma in a tight hug, but he could only assume this was Elsa's younger sister, Anna.

“Hey, Anna,” Emma said, a bit breathless from Anna's hug. “It's good to see you.”

“When Elsa told me you'd come all the way out here, I didn't know _what_ to think,” Anna said in a rush. “But you look _good_ , Emma.”

Emma released her friend. “Yeah, it definitely seems to be agreeing with me,” she replied with a smile. “Anna, I'd like you to meet...”

Anna's blue eyes lit up. “Oh! You must be Killian!” she said excitedly.

Killian held out his hand. “Aye. Hello, lass.”

Anna took his hand, shaking it vigorously. She had a stronger grip than he expected for such a tiny lass. “Oh, and he's got an accent.” Anna whispered to Emma. “Nice! I figured he did since he's friends with Will.”

“So you've met Will already?” Emma asked, looking around.

“Oh yeah. He and Kristoff are watching some action movie on the pay per view.”

“You left him with Kristoff?”

“Well, yeah,” Anna said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “We're all gonna be family of sorts, right?”

Killian could tell by Emma's deep blush that she hadn't quite considered that. Elsa and Anna were probably the closest things she had to sisters of her own. If the ladies' relationships worked out then, he'd probably be seeing a lot of more them. Anna didn't seem to doubt this scenario for a second. He liked her optimism.

“Well, if you don't need me to do anything, lass, I think I might join them,” Killian said, looking from Emma to Anna. He thought Emma would like the time to catch up with her friend.

Emma glanced at Anna, then nodded. “Okay. I'll see you in a little bit.” She leaned in and gave him a swift kiss, then whispered her thanks in his ear. He squeezed her hand, then slipped off toward the living room.

Just before he got out of earshot, he heard Anna squeal. “He's  _definitely_ a keeper, Emma. Well done, you!”

Killian smothered a laugh. Anna was very different from Elsa, but he liked her just as much.

“Took you long enough, Jones.”

Killian raised a brow at his friend, sitting on the couch,  _actually_ wearing something other than jeans and a t-shirt. Elsa's doing, no doubt. “Look who actually took a bath. Did Christmas come early?”

“Bugger off.” Will and a huge boulder of a man—this had to be Kristoff—sat at opposite ends of the couch, facing the telly. Killian plopped down between them. “This here is Killian,” Will said to Kristoff. “He's not as charming as meself, sadly.”

Killian rolled his eyes. “Kristoff, I presume?”

“Yeah. Hello.” The blonde man held out his huge hand and Killian shook it. “You two are friends?”

“Mostly,” Killian said. “When he's not being an utter wanker.”

“Oi! Who punched me in a face? Not once but twice?”

“You insulted Emma,” Killian reminded him. “You had it coming.”

Kristoff sniggered. “You probably got off lucky then,” he said to Will.

Will harrumphed; the other two ignored him. “Emma tells me you play hockey?” Killian said.

Kristoff grinned. “Yeah. Rangers. It's how I met Anna actually.”

Will perked up. “Rangers? Aren't they the blokes who won that...what's it called? Lord Stanley's Chalice or somethin'?”

“Cup,” Kristoff corrected. Frankly, Killian was surprised Will knew that much. Elsa again? “And yeah, we did.”

Killian was impressed. “Well, congratulations, mate! I've only ever played football myself.”

“So do I,” Kristoff said. “Had to do something during the couple of months the fjords weren't frozen.”

“Maybe we should have a friendly game,” Killian suggested. “I bet Robin would play too.” He was surprised at how much the idea appealed to him. He hadn't played since Liam's death. Hadn't wanted too. But as they say, life goes on. This was the first time in years he didn't feel guilty about that.

Will looked surprised, but agreed. “Yeah, sounds interestin'.”

“What sounds interesting?” Anna asked. She had some beers in her hands; Kristoff and Killian accepted their gratefully.

“We were talking about playing a friendly game of football,” Kristoff told her. “I bet I could get some of the guys to play.”

“Football?” She looked dubiously at Will and Killian. “Um, wouldn't you like crush them or something?”

Killian laughed, but Will rolled his eyes. “Soccer, lass,” Killian said. “Not American football.” Killian had never played  _that,_ only watched. He understood it, but he liked his football better.

“ _Oh!”_ Anna said brightly. “That makes so much more sense!” Then she looked a bit horrified. “Not that I don't think you guys couldn't...or that you'd get squished...oh never mind. Dinner will be ready soon!” She hurried off to much chuckling.

“She always that flighty, mate?” Will asked Kristoff.

Killian rounded on him. “What it is with you and insulting people's girlfriends, Scarlet?”

“Oi! I didn't!”

“Anna is...something else,” Kristoff replied, not insulted at all it seemed. “She tends to babble and speak before she thinks. But she means well.”

“Sounds like _you_ , mate,” Killian said, elbowing Will. “No wonder Elsa can tolerate you.”

“Speaking of,” Kristoff said with a grin. “How _did_ you all meet anyway? Anna's only told me bits and pieces.”

Killian took a long pull from his beer and started the tale. Kristoff listened—Will did too—his eyes awash in understanding. He laughed his low rumbling laugh at the funnier bits; indeed, hearing the story out loud, Killian was reminded of how absurd it all was. The apple, the coffee, his own stupidity nearly ruining everything. He and Emma should not have met and yet they did. They did and felt this  _connection_ , bringing them together, over and over again.

If that wasn't fate, then Killian wasn't sure what was. He was becoming certain that even if he lived a million lifetimes, he'd find Emma in all of them. She was his beacon, a siren, calling him home.

“Well, it's not me you have to win over,” Kristoff said finally. “Anna's like a mama bear, making sure the people she loves are happy.” All three men looked over the back of the couch to the kitchen where Emma, Anna and Elsa were laughing quietly. Killian was struck by how close they were. He would never want to get in the way of that.

“You know, we're hopelessly outclassed here, gents,” Will said quietly.

Killian nodded. To his surprise, Kristoff did too. “They chose us,” Killian said. “Let's not muck it up if we can help it, yeah?”

All three of them clinked their bottles together in a silent toast, then headed for the kitchen, where their ladies awaited them.

Emma slept fitfully that night. She was usually calm, allowing him to hold her or spoon up behind her, but she kept tossing and turning, beating her pillow with her hand. Killian knew she was nervous. All he had to do was show up and not make a fool of himself in front of her parents. Emma had to play hostess, speak intelligently and confidently about her project and win people over. He knew she could do it, but she had doubts. She never voiced them, but he knew her too well. On the rare occasions the stress—or Regina's constant complaining—got to her, he'd kiss her, then massage her worries away with his hands, a process that all too often ended with them naked and panting. He didn't do it for that, but if she needed him, then he wasn't going to deny her.

He'd never deny her anything.

She fell asleep at last around one in the morning and Killian followed, sinking into a deep slumber, cradling her hand in his. He dreamt of her, as he did so often now, those captivating green eyes, the silken tresses falling between his fingers, the dress she'd worn on their date in Honolulu, clinging to every perfect curve. Most of all he dreamed of how her lips felt on his, soft and pliant, sweet. Warm and loving or deep and demanding, he lived for her kiss. She chased away the nightmares and the loneliness he'd lived with for so long.

He rose slowly from the depths of his subconscious, reaching for Emma. His hand fell on cold sheets.

But the sheets were the only thing that felt cold. Warm lips brushed over his chest, down along his ribcage. Killian wrenched his eyes open to find Emma leaning over him, hair spilling around her face, kissing and caressing his body.

It was a riveting sight.

“Emma?” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. He didn't know what time it was, only that some sun peaked through the window.

“Shhh,” she replied, kissing his sternum. “It's early.”

“Swan...” His head sank back into the pillow, groaning, when her hand brushed his erection. Clearly his dreams had been stronger than he thought.

“Were you dreaming about me?”

She kissed and licked at his navel, making him hiss softly in pleasure. “Aye.”

“No one else?”

Was she mad? He hadn't so much as  _looked_ at another woman since he met her. “Only you, love.”

“It was a good dream?” she said, a bit mischievous.

“Not as good as this,” he sighed, trying to rock into her touch. He loved waking up like this, with them both aching and wanting. And on this day, it might be their only chance. Emma let him go long enough to remove the shirt she was wearing. His mouth went dry at the rosy pink nipples, already standing at attention. “Cold?”

Emma shook her head. “Hungry.” She picked up one of his hands and brought it to her chest, sighing as he touched her. “I want to remember this today,” she said, licking her lips. “When things get crazy I want to remember you touching me.”

Killian growled, tugging on her wrist until she was flat against his chest. He kissed her, deeply, hands smoothing over her skin. Emma mewled into the kiss, a hand coming up to cradle his face. Killian rolled them over, pressing her into the mattress, settling into the cradle of her thighs. He made no move to take her—indeed he still had his boxers on—right now all he wanted was to make her  _feel._

He grabbed her wrists in his hand, holding them above her head. Emma looked at him with wide eyes, no longer sleepy, but burning. He circled his hips the way he knew she she liked, grinding his cock into her heat until they were both groaning.

“Is this what you wanted, love?” he asked, lips dancing over her jaw. “Do you feel what you do to me?”

Emma rolled her hips up, trying to get as much friction as she could through their clothes. “Yes! Don't stop.”

Killian kicked the remaining covers away, wanting his attention focused solely on the woman in front of him. “Don't move your hands,” he warned, voice low and growling. Emma nodded, fingers fumbling for the rungs of the headboard. Killian hummed approvingly. “There's my good girl.” He kissed her again, stroking her tongue with his, hands skimming along her sides. He left a trail of wet kisses down her neck and chest, wishing fleetingly that he could mark her.

It could wait until after the ball.

He thumbed her straining nipples, kneading the heavy mounds, relishing Emma's sighs of pleasure. He kissed one then the other, his day old scruff scratching her pale skin. Killian pushed her breasts together, tongue darting out to lick her. He flicked his tongue between the hard peaks, sucking one, then the other, back and forth until she was writhing, hips grinding against him frantically. He could feel the dampness against his stomach, the crotch of her panties completely soaked through.

“Killian,” Emma panted, knuckles white. _“Please.”_

“Please what?” he asked, kissing further down her torso, one hand slipping between her thighs.

“I...” She blew a stray hair out of her face. “Fuck, I want to come!”

He was tempted to just rip her panties, shove his boxers down and just  _fuck_ her until they couldn't see straight, but he wasn't ready to give her up for the day just yet. He teased the edge of her lace panties with his fingers, along the top of her thigh, down to where she was wet for him. He ducked his head, inhaling her scent, his cock twitching in response.

Killian pushed the wet cloth aside and slide a single finger inside her. Emma moaned, rocking wantonly against him. “Hmm, you like this, don't you, Swan? Riding my fingers, feeling me inside you.”

“More,” she hissed. “God, I need more.”

Killian kissed her stomach. “You'll get it, love.” He added a second long finger, her walls contracting around them, making him wish it was his cock instead. It felt so good when she squeezed him. He went slow, watching her face carefully. Her legs started to tremble, the pressure mounting, her breathing coming in short gasps.

She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Killian picked up his pace, seeking out the spot that would make her scream. When she shuddered, he knew he'd found it and he latched onto her clit with his mouth, sucking it between his teeth eagerly. Emma cried out, walls beginning to flutter, and he did it again, remembering how much she enjoyed it. The wood of the headboard groaned in her grip, her body convulsing as she came with a sharp cry, eyes screwed shut. Killian brought her down, nice and easy, even though his own need burned in his veins.

“Feel better, darling?” he asked, a smug grin on his lips. Making her fall apart for him was one of his favorite pastimes.

Her eyes fluttered open and she let go of the headboard. “No.”

“No? What else do you want?”

She moved faster than he'd have thought, given the fact that she was still catching her breath. Using one of those mixed martial arts moves, she had him on his back in a moment. With  _his_ wrists pinned above his head. “I want your cock inside me,” she said, lips hot against his ear. She drew the lobe between her teeth, biting down. A jolt of desire shot through him, his cock  _aching_ .

“Take what you want, princess,” he replied, hissing in pleasure. “I'll not stop you.”

Emma smiled, then kissed him, releasing his wrists. True to his word, he didn't move, merely let her remove his last stitch of clothing, then hers. He cursed when she took him into her hand, stroking firmly, thumb swiping the head. He let her toy with him, even though it went against all his instincts. He got far more enjoyment from watching her touch him. She bent her head again, tongue licking his hipbone. She scrapped her teeth over his skin, sucking and biting until there was a nice red mark on his hip.

“Mine,” she whispered, green eyes seeking out his and locking. His heart ached, wondering if she ever really thought he could belong to another.

“Yours,” he said, biting his lip. “All yours, Emma.”

She smiled, still stroking him, Killian's hips rocking upwards, chasing her touch. Then she was straddling his hips, rubbing her wet folds over his length, a long low moan tearing from her throat.

“ _Emma.”_ She looked so lost in pleasure, he was loathe to stop her, but if she didn't fuck him soon he was going to lose his mind.

She braced one hand on his chest and lined him up, sinking down with one smooth roll of her hips. They both cursed, the feeling of her stretching to take him so good he nearly saw stars. He prayed he never got used to this feeling, the way they fit together. Emma didn't waste time, bouncing in his lap, using his body for her pleasure. He couldn't help himself; he ran his hands up along her thighs, feeling the muscles flex under his touch. Emma reached for his hands, threading them with hers as she rode him, faster and faster. Killian started to buck his hips up under her, planting his feet on the bed for leverage.

Emma cried out as he hit her deeper, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She leaned over him, hands still entwined, hips circling as she impaled herself over and over again.  _“Close,”_ she bit out, drawing his hands behind her back. Killian held her to him, desperately trying to hold off on his own release. “So fucking close.”

His hands slid down her spine, molding to the curve of her ass. “Let go,” he growled, one hand spanking her.

“Fuck!” Encouraged, Killian swatted her ass again, feeling her getting wetter around him. Emma fisted the sheets in her hands, bracing herself, mewling loudly. She screamed his name as she fell a second time, walls squeezing, easily sparking his own release. Killian grunted, hips rutting into hers, pleasure coursing through him as he spilled himself inside her.

Emma didn't have to collapse on him because she was already there. Killian kissed her damp brow, murmuring how much he loved her into her skin. She seemed spent, almost boneless in his arms. Gently, he rolled them onto their sides, pulling up the lightest covers. Emma snuggled into him, tucking her head under his chin. He was fairly certain she dozed, but he wasn't tired anymore. He just held her until they had to wake up.

This was arguably the most important day of his life and he didn't want to miss a second.

When the alarm went off, Emma groaned. “Ugh.”

Killian swiped at her phone for her, fingers combing through her hair. “Time to rise and shine, sweetheart. Again.”

“Why'd you let me sleep?”

“Because despite our very enjoyable activities, you needed it. It's a big day.”

Emma rested her head on his chest. “I had a dream. Before, I mean.” She paused, fingers drawing patterns on his stomach. “I guess I just needed you.”

“Did I complain, lass? I rather enjoyed myself.”

“Well, you've certainly woken _me_ up enough times.”

“Do you wish me to desist?”

“No!” She raised her head, peering up at him. “I like it. I love everything about us.”

He stroked her cheek. “As do I. Think we're ready to show the world that, love?”

She brought his palm to her lips and kissed it. “Yeah, I do.”

“Let's just avoid Regina, yeah?”

She grinned. “No problems here.” The fact that Emma wanted to show him off to her New York acquaintances, that she wasn't ashamed of him, meant the world to him. And while things would be hampered a bit by the masks, there was no place he'd rather be.

Reluctantly, they got up. Emma slipped on her shirt, heading for the kitchen to make coffee while Killian showered. They didn't want to risk getting caught up in each other again. As soon as he was finished, she jumped in and he made breakfast. He had to work most of the day; Robin wanted as much finished by the A team as possible, since Killian would be attending the ball. Robin had even helped design Killian's mask, making him all but unrecognizable except to people who knew him well.

“Have everything, Swan?” Killian asked as he grabbed his keys. They were driving to The Crocodile separately; this would be the last time they saw each other until the ball.

She hefted a rather large bag; Killian wasn't sure what was in it. Feminine things most likely. “Yep. My dress is at Elsa's.”

“I still think you should have modeled it for me,” he teased.

“Then it might have gotten ruined before the ball.”

“I thought you trusted me, Swan.”

Emma came to stand in front of him. “Oh, I do. But I know those wandering hands of yours, babe.”

Killian rested his hands on her hips, thumbs slipping under the hem of her t-shirt. “What wandering? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean.”

Emma stepped even closer, her pupils dilating just a bit. Her arms came around his neck, lips hovering over his. “Wandering hands, lips. Maybe I don't trust  _myself_ .” Then she kissed him, long and slow, until they needed air.

“I will miss you today.”

“Me too. We'll find each other. Just look for the woman in red, okay?”

Killian smiled. “I can do that.” They kissed again, all too briefly for his taste, then left.

The garage looked like a cyclone had hit it when Killian arrived. Patches of oil littered the floor; one of the new guys was trying to mop it up. Tools were everywhere and Robin was nowhere to be found. Killian spent his first hour trying to take stock and put things away. They were supposed to have the resort's fleet of cars ready to start picking people up by five o'clock. The ball didn't start until eight, but Regina was taking no chances. Most of them were already done, sitting in the back lot, row after row.

“Killian!” Robin cried. “There you are.”

“Been here for hours, mate. What happened?”

“Regina has been...tetchy,” he said, then sighed. “There might have been a bit of a tantrum. I explained to her that the limo would be ready by four, but that wasn't enough apparently.”

The limo in question was for their collective boss, Robert Gold. It was the only one The Crocodile had and it was rarely used. Killian had been fighting the urge to clog up its fuel injection, just to spite the man. But he was better than that.

Still, the very idea that that man and his bastard of a son were here was enough to put him on edge. As long as Neal stayed away from Emma, Killian would leave him alone.

“It's not like Gold's driving here from Alaska,” Killian said to Robin. “Why the rush?”

“She wants to give him a tour...with me as their driver.”

“Better you than me, mate.” He threw his dirty rag aside. “How about we let the newbs finish washing the bleeding cars and you and I will get this limo sorted?”

Robin nodded gratefully, then headed out to issue the necessary instructions. Killian pulled the limo into the garage and was already vacuuming out the inside by the time Robin came back. They worked side by side for the next hour and a half, cleaning, tuning, polishing. The damn thing _gleamed_ by the time they were finished. It ran much better too, a tune up and some clean filters doing wonders.

Robin left Killian to clean up, taking the limo for a full tank of gas. Only a little while longer and he'd be free to start getting ready. He was going to need it, judging by the state of his greasy hands. Killian moved to the sink to wash, wondering what it would be like when he _didn't_ have to fix cars to make a living. He enjoyed it, but he was more certain than ever his passion lay elsewhere.

“Well, well, well,” a voice drawled from behind him. “Can't say I expected to see you here.”

Killian turned and froze, hoping his face didn't give away his shock.

Neal stood in front of him, looking deeply smug. Which meant he'd totally expected to find Killian here. How the hell had he found out? Perhaps he wasn't as lazy as Emma thought.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Killian kept his voice even, even though his heart was racing.

Neal's smile got wider, clearly enjoying himself. “We've met before. I don't think we were formally introduced.”

Killian knew there was no point in lying. Neal clearly knew the secret he and Emma had tried to hide. “Well, there was hardly time with Emma tossing you out on your overbearing arse.”

Neal's smile faltered a bit, but he held out his hand. “Neal Gold.”

Killian did not take his hand. “Killian Jones. Do you have something to say or can I get back to work?”

“How long have you worked here?”

“Why are you asking questions that you clearly know the answer to?”

Neal shrugged. “Curiosity? Wondering why someone like you would jeopardize so much for...” Neal laughed. “Let's be honest, not really anything that special anyway.”

Killian's jaw clenched at the insult to Emma. He needed to remain calm. “If Emma means so little to you, then why in the blazes are you doing so much to ruin this for her? Why can't you just leave her alone?”

Neal's expression turned sour. “Because she _humiliated_ me, moron. Thinks she's so much better than everyone else.”

Killian laughed. “If you knew her at all, you'd know that's not true.”

Neal picked up a wrench, turning it over in his hands. “She was supposed to be mine,” he said in a quiet dangerous voice. “But she ruined it.”

Killian shook his head. “No, from what I understand, _you_ did that all by yourself. She deserves better than the likes of you.”

“Oh, like you?”

Killian drew himself up; he wasn't going to be intimidated by Neal's attitude. “Doesn't matter what I think. Her opinion is the only one that matters.”

“What makes you better than me? Huh? You're just a mechanic!” Neal was getting angry now, his ears red.

“I don't treat like her like a fucking trophy to be ordered about!”

“Is that what she told you? What a fucking joke. That bitch is more...” He never got out whatever it was he was going to say, because Killian's fist came into direct contact with Neal's jaw. He followed it with a punch to the stomach, just for good measure.

“If you _ever_ insult her like that again,” he snarled, seeing red. “You'll have a lot more to deal with than a sore jaw.”

“You're fucking crazy,” Neal snapped, holding his jaw. “Just like her.” He stepped back before Killian could come at him again. “But I know your dirty little secret, asshole. Flagrantly breaking the rules. Assault. If you show up at that ball, I _will_ make your life a living hell. Count on it.”

One last hateful glance and Neal spun on his heel and left. Killian was still breathing hard, still furious. How dare that bastard? All this to get back at Emma? How could he hate her that much? Or did he just enjoy belittling others and watching them squirm? That seemed much more his speed. Was he all talk? The asshole was rich, or rather his father was. Rich and powerful.

Once Killian's breathing evened out, he dug out his phone, trying to call Emma. But it went straight to voicemail. He nearly screamed in frustration when he remembered she had turned her phone off, not wanting the distraction. Should he go find her? It was nearly time for him to go get ready. As soon as Robin returned, Killian was supposed to take off. He wanted so badly to be there for Emma. Perhaps he shouldn't have lost his temper and hit the jerk.

Who was he kidding? Neal had come there to threaten him no matter what. The entire point had been to try and intimidate him and get him to abandon Emma. Which Killian absolutely refused to do.

He was going to that ball, come hell or high water.

What was the worst that could happen? A lost job? He wouldn't need it in two weeks anyway. Then he'd go back to school, finish his degree and if everything went well this evening, he'd start a _real_ job right after.

So the hell with Neal Gold. Killian was going to show up at that ball, enjoy the night with his Swan. They'd come too far to let that wanker ruin their lives.

Killian left a message on Emma's phone—just in case—then as soon as Robin got back, he headed home. He had a ball to prepare for.

* * *

“Emma, you look _wonderful,”_ Elsa enthused, staring at them in the mirror.

Emma cocked her head, examining her own reflection. “You don't think it's too...I don't know...poofy?”

Elsa looked stern. “You're supposed to be a princess.”

Emma laughed. “Killian always calls me that.”

“I'm sure he says it with the utmost affection.”

Emma looked away, a faint blush staining her cheeks. The truth was he tended to use it in very _filthy_ ways, as a distinct counterpoint to whatever he was doing to her at the time. It never failed to make her body burn with want.

But she would never tell Elsa that.

“Well, I can breathe...mostly,” Emma said instead, twitching her hips, trying to adjust the corset she wore. She had a feeling Killian would very much be a fan of her undergarments; he loved when she dressed up for him. Mostly because he got to then strip them off her.

“I told you it wouldn't be that bad,” Elsa replied, adjusting the bodice of her own gown. It was more modern than Emma's, a light almost icy blue, a bit slinky with a slit up the side. When Emma asked what she was supposed to be, Elsa mumbled something about an ice queen.

“Yours is built in,” Emma complained, smoothing the skirt down once more. The dress really was perfect for the fairy tale like setting, but she still felt self conscious. It would be better when she found Killian, dressed as he was. Her own personal Prince.

“But yours has actual sleeves,” Elsa pointed out. “It's chilly in that ballroom.”

“That's just because it's empty. It'll be hot later.”

“That won't be the only thing that's hot,” Elsa shot back, her elegant brow arched.

“Elsa! Did you just inadvertently hit on my boyfriend? Who's not even here?”

Elsa rolled her eyes. “I'm not _blind_ , Emma. Killian's very attractive. You two can hardly keep your hands off each other!” She put a hand on Emma's arm. “And I already have my date, remember? I just hope you two will make it to the end of the night!”

Emma thought about that morning, how she'd woken up aching for him. She could still feel those large calloused hands on her skin, making her burn. But surely, they could control themselves. They knew how important this was.

“If you see us trying to sneak off...well I guess you'll just have to stop us,” Emma said matter of factly. “I'm making that your best friend duty for the night.”

“I'm honored,” Elsa said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Being around Will had obviously rubbed off on her. “Ready to go?”

Emma took one last look into the mirror. “Yeah.”

The car showed up five minutes later; Will (who looked rather handsome himself, dressed like the Knave of Hearts), Elsa and Emma piled in, Emma needing to gather her skirts. Elsa and Will were holding hands, faint but almost giddy smiles on their faces. Emma was happy for them. It was nice to see her friend so happy after so much heartbreak. And Will was Killian's friend; maybe Anna was right, they could all be family one day.

Emma was the first out of the car, looking around surreptitiously for Killian. He didn't seem to be there yet. She put her mask in place and headed inside, thinking perhaps she could do one final check that everything was ready.

She needn't have bothered. The ballroom looked incredible; the crystal chandeliers polished, walls freshly painted. Large seashell displays covered in flowers. Tertiaries shaped like fish at strategic intervals. In one corner there was a display with a large map of Hawaii, describing the various reserves and their missions.

It looked like an underwater paradise.

“I hope everything is up to your specifications,” came Regina's voice from behind her.

Emma couldn't contain her relief. “It's amazing, Regina. Your staff did a fantastic job.”

“Thank you. I hope the evening goes as well as you hope,” the older woman replied stiffly.

Emma nodded, then moved off, people watching mostly. There weren't that many people in the ballroom yet; Emma thought it best to be one of the first since she was the hostess. She saw Gold and Neal—the idiot kept rubbing his jaw, God only knew why—almost right away and studiously avoided them like the plague. She did _not_ want to talk to either of them unless she absolutely had to and certainly not first thing. Instead, she ran through facts and figures in her head, hoping no one asked her anything to overly science-y. But that was what she had Killian for, right? He was the scientist and a damn good one.

Speaking of, where the hell was he?

She was about to look for him again when she got waylaid by Elsa, who had a few of their friends from New York in tow. Emma smiled and put on her hostess cap, making small talk. A few of them actually seemed interested in what she was working on, much to her surprise and delight. She was explaining the danger to creatures like sea turtles and whales when someone touched her arm.

Emma turned, almost expecting Killian, but it was her mother. She quickly crushed the kernel of disappointment, instead embracing the thrill of having her parents there, actually supporting her.

“Mom! Dad!” They beamed at her before her mom drew her into a hug.

“It's good to see you, Emma,” she said in Emma's ear. “You look beautiful.”

Emma blushed again as she hugged her father; it wasn't often she got such effusive praise from her mother. Mary Margaret Blanchard-Nolan was a great beauty herself, with her dark hair and green eyes. Indeed, Emma's parents were a very handsome couple, as Killian would say.

“Let me guess. Snow White and Prince Charming?” Emma asked, when she finally took in their costumes. They didn't have their masks on yet, but it was obvious who they were.

“Stick with what works, right?” her dad said, an arm around his wife.

“You'll be telling that story when _I'm_ eighty,” Emma teased. God, it was so good to see them. It was amazing what some time away could do, with the whole “giving you perspective” thing.

Mary Margaret looked around. “Where's Killian?”

Emma frowned. “I'm not sure.” She looked up at the clock. “He should have been here by now.” She looked around again, eyes straining through the mask. She caught a flash of a long coat and snapped her eyes up, hoping.

It was him.

Killian stood at the head of the stairs, cutting a rather dashing figure despite the mask. It didn't quite cover his whole face, but it was enough. He was looking around and suddenly Emma wished she had a neon sign over her head. _I'm right here!_ she thought, her breath catching in her throat. She knew the moment he saw her because he smiled, that happy dimpled grin she loved so much.

Emma moved without thinking, her only thought was to get to him. Killian must have been the same, as he hurried down the stairs, meeting her at the bottom. “There you are, love,” he said, taking her hands in his.

“Where were you?”

“I had a bit of a malfunction with this bloody mask,” he said, his voice tight. Emma immediately knew something was wrong. She looked around, then guided him to a corner.

“What's really going on?”

Killian let out a frustrated breath. “Neal knows about us, sweetheart.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her heart sinking.

“He stopped by the garage a little while ago. Said that if I came he'd make life very difficult.”

Emma clenched her fists. _“Asshole,”_ she hissed. “But you came anyway?”

“I wasn't going to leave you, darling.”

Emma worried her lip between her teeth. “But what about...?”

“But nothing. If I get fired, I get fired. You're more important than any job.”

She got a lump in her throat, anger at Neal and love for Killian warring inside her. “I love you,” she said softly. “A lot.”

Killian grinned. “I love you too, Emma.” He cupped her cheek, drawing her in for a sweet chaste kiss. “Shall we, Princess?” he asked, offering his arm.

Emma took a deep breath and nodded. “Definitely.” She slipped her arm through his. She wasn't going to let Neal ruin her night. “Would you like to dance or meet my parents first?”

Killian looked askance at her even though the mask. “They're here?”

“Yep.”

“Perhaps a dance to warm up?”

“Scared to meet my parents?” she teased, leading him toward the dance floor. No one was dancing yet, but who cared? Maybe they would start a trend.

“No one's scared, Swan,” he said, taking her into his arms. “Perhaps I merely want a moment with you first.”

She put her hand in his and curled the other around his shoulder. “Didn't we just have a moment?”

“I'm a greedy man, love. I want _every_ moment with you.”

He led them in the dance—Emma was pretty sure it was a waltz—not making fun of her when she missed a few of the steps. It had been years since she'd danced quite like this. But she loved it. Despite the pressure she should be feeling, all she felt was happy, light, secure with Killian's arms around her. She caught a glimpse of Will and Elsa following their lead. To her surprise, Will wasn't that bad of a dancer. He trod on Elsa's feet a couple of times, but Elsa looked like she was genuinely having fun.

Many other couples joined in, dresses swirling and rustling around them.

“This is amazing,” Killian said softly in her ear. “I'm so proud of you, Emma.”

Emma squeezed his hand a little tighter. “I wouldn't be here without you.”

Killian shrugged. “You'd have found your way eventually, Swan. But I am glad I get to share this with you.”

“There's no one I would rather share this with, Killian. Thanks for believing in me.” She kissed him, right there on the dance floor, not caring who saw. This man made her happy, indescribably so, and she wanted everyone to know it.

After the dance they got some champagne and hors d'oeuvres, Emma suddenly ravenous. She hadn't eaten much since breakfast that morning. Her mother always said that you could tell a good party based on the food and Emma thought she'd done quite nicely. There was a long table laid out with dishes, many native Hawaiian, large and small. Everything she tried tasted great, almost melting in her mouth.

A few people came up to them while they ate; Emma slipped into hostess mode seamlessly, keeping Killian at her side. She had a little speech to give later, but she preferred to talk to people this way, in small quiet conversations. Several of the administrators of the reserves cornered them, congratulating Emma on the seeming success of the event. One of them even offered Killian a job, which was amazing in and of itself.

“Am I going to have to fight for you?” Emma teased as they left. She'd seen her parents on the far side of the room; it was time for them to meet her boyfriend.

Killian smirked. “Possibly. What would you offer me? A corner office? Head of my own team perhaps?”

“Whatever it took to keep you,” she said honestly. “I think you'd be a great impartial voice. As well as a great scientist.”

He stopped them in their tracks. “You really mean that, don't you?”

Emma looked confused. “Of course I do. I've read your stuff, Killian. You're passionate, intelligent. Having you just down the hall from me is just a bonus.”

He raised a brow at her. “Is that where I'd be? Down the hall from you?”

“If you want. But if you want another job...”

He put a finger to her lips. “I was just teasing, sweetheart. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid.”

A warmth bloomed in her chest. She planned on being happily stuck with him for a very long time. “Come on, let's go see my parents. They are dying to meet you.”

When they found them, David and Mary Margaret were speaking to the Mayor of New York and his wife. Emma was stunned that they'd come, since they'd thrown an engagement party for their daughter a few days ago.

“Your Honor. Mrs. Herman,” Emma said, stepping up to the group. “I'm so pleased you could make it.”

Ella Herman smiled. “I was just telling your mother how nice it will be to get away from the city for a few days. Thank you for inviting us.”

“How's Alexandra?” Emma didn't especially like the girl, but it didn't hurt to make nice.

“She's well. Planning her wedding.” For the first time, the older blonde's eyes fastened on Killian. “Perhaps you'll be joining her soon?”

Emma blushed, her arm tightening on Killian's. “Sorry. This is my boyfriend, Killian Jones. He's a grad student at the University of Hawaii.” She looked at Killian. “Killian, this is Mayor Thomas Herman and his wife, Ella.”

“It's an honor to meet you both,” Killian replied, giving them a short bow. Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing. Sometimes she forgot about the Brit in him.

The Mayor shook his hand vigorously and they exchanged pleasantries. Then the Mayor saw a potential campaign donor and hurried off, his wife in tow. Emma let out a sigh, finally turning to her parents. “Well, this is awkward now,” she said.

Killian squeezed her hand, stepping forward. “David, Mrs. Nolan. I'm glad to finally meet you in person.”

David held out his hand and Killian shook it. “It's good to meet you to, Killian,” he said. “Finally.”

“Dad, it's only been three months!”

“Still, you two look very...serious.”

Mary Margaret glared at her husband. “I think you're too late on the overprotective father thing, David,” she admonished. She turned to Killian. “I'd like to apologize for my behavior the last time we spoke, Killian. I wasn't being fair to either of you.”

“You being here for Emma is more than enough, Mrs. Nolan.”

This was crazy, the four them standing around in masks. Emma ducked them into a corner so they could talk without the hindrance. It went better than she expected; her parents genuinely interested in getting to know him. Killian blushed deeply when Mary Margaret hugged him, murmuring how sorry she was about him losing his family. Emma felt a fierce love for her mother then, fervently hoping this could be the start of a whole new chapter in their lives.

“I better go schmooze some more,” Emma said reluctantly.

“Would you like me to come, Swan?”

“No, stay here. Neal's still lurking somewhere, no doubt.” It was disconcerting and a little frightening that he hadn't made a stink yet. She caught him staring out of the corner of her eye several times, but he never tried to talk.

Maybe he'd finally had enough of his petty game.

“Ah, Miss Nolan, there you are,” Regina said, almost as soon as Emma stepped back into the whirlwind. “I wanted to introduce you to Mr. Gold.”

“We've met,” Emma said shortly. Still, she shook his hand. “Mr. Gold.”

“A fine party, Miss Nolan,” the old man said, his accent sending shivers—and not the good kind—down her spine. God, she hated this man and his superiority complex. “And a worthy cause. How did you stumble upon it?”

_You already know, you bastard_ . Aside from making outrageous amounts of money, Gold lived to make his son happy. Which was why Neal was a spoiled, entitled brat. Still, she shrugged. “I saw an opportunity,” she said, her voice even. “Surely keeping the ocean safe for everyone is a good thing?”

“Indeed it is, dearie. I wish you well in your philanthropic endeavor.”

“Thank you for sharing your facility,” Emma replied, with more graciousness than she felt. “Ms. Mills was wonderful to work with.”

“Ah yes,” Gold said. “She is most competent. Now if you ladies will excuse me, I must get back to my wife.”

Emma rolled her eyes as soon as he was gone. “I  _hate_ that blow hard.”

“Grin and bear it, Miss Nolan,” Regina advised. “Grin and bear it.”

Emma nodded and moved off, intent on finding Killian before she had to make her speech. She wasn't ashamed to admit that she wanted that little boost of confidence that he gave her. She found him still talking to her parents, gesturing emphatically. Emma ducked under his waving hand, chuckling.

“Seems like you're getting along,” she said, smiling. She knew Killian had been nervous, but there didn't seem to be any reason now.

“Killian was telling us about his boat,” her father said, much more relaxed now.

“That's great.” Emma put her hand on Killian's arm. “I think it's time for my speech.”

“You'll be amazing,” Killian assured her, covering her hand with his. “I know it.”

Beside him, her parents were nodding. “Go get 'em, sweetheart,” David said.

Emma beamed at them; no matter what happened, she had the love of these people and that was all that mattered. “Back in few,” she said, letting out a steadying breath.

“Swan,” Killian called.

“Yeah?”

He pulled her back, placing a light kiss to her lips. “Good luck.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but even she could appreciate a good luck kiss from her boyfriend, cheesy as it was. It was like taking a little piece of him with her. Emma squeezed his hand one last time, then tore herself away. She stepped up to the platform at the head of the room, settling behind the ornate lectern. She gripped the edges hard, then slipped off her mask.

Silence descended as the lights dimmed and the spotlight shown on her.

“I'd like to start by thanking you all for coming,” Emma began, blinking in the bright light. “In a relatively short time, this has become a cause near and dear to my heart. I'm overjoyed that many of my family's friends and acquaintances are here to help me celebrate that.”

She spoke off the cuff (she hated prepared speeches) but from the heart. This truly was important to her and not simply as a way to prove herself. As she spoke, a screen behind her showed gorgeous pictures of the islands and Emma outlined just what she was attempting to do. She couldn't see due to the bright lights, but she could feel the eyes on her. This was a side to her many of these people had never seen; she hoped that they would be impressed as well as surprised.

When she was finished, a few of the reserve administrators stepped up and chimed in, echoing Emma's plea for more funding and more coordination. She could just make out a few nods in the crowd, very encouraging. When the presentation was finished, there was much applause.

Emma smiled so much her cheeks hurt, feeling like she'd truly accomplished something. Something important.

She stepped down from the podium and right into Killian's arms. He spun her around, mask tossed aside, Emma's peels of laughter filling the air. “Emma, that was incredible,” he exclaimed, kissing her soundly.

Emma hugged him close as he put her down; she actually thought she might cry. He'd helped her so much, just by believing in her. “I'm glad it's over though,” she laughed.

Killian brushed some stray hair out of her face. “Now we can celebrate.”

David cleared his throat and they broke apart. Before Emma could say a word, her parents were hugging her too. “We are so proud of you, Emma,” Mary Margaret said. Emma blushed, not expecting the praise or pride on their faces. Elsa, Will, Anna and Kristoff were there too, with lots of hugs and smiles. Except Will, who just gave her a quiet nod.

“Toast!” Kristoff cried. “We need a toast!”

A waiter hurried over with a tray of champagne; they all grabbed a flute. Her friends and family stood around her, glasses raised. “To Emma,” they all said in unison. Emma flushed, almost as dark as her dress but drank with them.

She started to reply when all the lights in the ballroom went out.

“What the hell?” Emma cried. The accompanying murmuring and shuffling only lasted moments as the lights came back on.

“Everyone remain where you are!” a deep authoritative voice yelled. “Federal agents!”

“ _WHAT?”_ Emma ignored their directive and pushed past Killian, determined to find out just what the hell is going on. Two men in suits strode through the crowd, accompanied by a hand full of cops, guns drawn. “Is that really _necessary_?”

“Ma'am, if you'll just remain where you are, we'll accomplish our mission much faster.” The guy in the suit looked a bit uncomfortable to her, but determined to do his job, whatever that was.

“I'm not doing anything until I know just why the hell you've crashed my event.”

The man's brown eyes were sympathetic. “I'm sorry, Miss...”

“Nolan, Emma Nolan.”

“Well, Miss Nolan, we've come to apprehend a suspect. We've reliable information that he's here at this event.”

“Suspect for what?” It all smelled fishy to her. No pun intended.

“I am not at liberty to say, Miss Nolan.” He showed her his badge. FBI? What?

“He's over here!” an all too familiar voice called. “Scruffy guy in the long coat.”

Emma rounded on Neal, a terrible, terrible feeling settling in her stomach. “What the  _fuck_ have you done, you bastard?”

Neal shrugged. “Hey, he attacked me, Emma.”

Already, the feds were pushing past her toward Killian. This was a  _nightmare._ It wasn't happening. She picked up her skirts and ran, putting herself between the agents and Killian. “You're not taking him. Killian hasn't done anything wrong.”

“Oh, on the contrary, Miss Nolan,” came Gold's smooth voice. “He's not only attacked my son, but he's also in some very serious violations in his visa. I'm afraid these fine gentlemen will have to take him.”

“No!” Emma screamed.

Killian took her by the shoulders. “It'll be alright, love. I promise.” She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was scared, but more than that, he was  _ angry.  _ Not at her. Christ, she couldn't take it if he blamed himself. They hadn't done anything wrong, not really.

Emma blinked back tears. “I'm going to bring you home,” she said softly. “I swear.” She kissed him, but the agents were pulling his arms behind his back before they were done. Killian was wrenched from her and marched off; she caught one final glimpse of his blue eyes, then he was gone.

An long tortuous hour later, Emma paced in the bungalow, fuming. The party had broken up right after the cops left; no one was in the mood to celebrate any longer. Emma ignored everyone until they reached the bungalow. Elsa and Anna helped her change into more normal clothes; indeed, she couldn't get the ballgown off fast enough. Then she was on the phone, calling anyone and everyone who might be able to get her some fucking answers.

She wasn't the only one. Her father was on the phone too, calling the company's legal team. It was her one solace, that her parents seemed to be as worried about Killian as she was. Emma had no idea what they had done with him; no one would tell her anything.

“He was set up,” she snarled, hanging up her phone. “That jackass set him up by provoking that fight!”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret said gently. “Were you and Killian doing anything...I don't know...wrong?”

Emma sagged onto one of the stools. “We shouldn't have been together,” she said. “Not while I was staying here. Some stupid rule or something.” She ran her fingers through her long hair. “I should have moved out when I had the chance.”

“It wouldn't have made a difference.” Emma looked up, stunned. Regina Mills stood in the middle of the room, _Robin_ at her side. He looked both distressed and angry. Emma could sympathize.

“Did you know?” She would never forgive her if Regina had been the one to give them away.

“Not until the authorities arrived. _However,_ seeing that my own relationships is...complicated,” she said, glancing at Robin, “I probably would have left you alone.”

Emma was surprised. Her gaze flickered to Will and Elsa, Will trying to hide a bit. It was almost funny. “Probably?”

Regina raised an elegant brow. “We'll never know, now will we?”

“I've already quit,” Robin added. “Not that it helps much. But I'm not working for anyone who sets up my friends.”

“I'm not either,” Will chimed in, suddenly looking determined. “Ms. Mills, ya can consider this my resignation.”

Regina looked surprised, but nodded. Emma was certain she didn't even know who Will was, but Emma appreciated his gesture.

“So what do we do now?” Elsa asked. “We can't let Gold do this.”

David stepped back into the room, looking grave. Emma hadn't even noticed he left. “We might be too late. Killian's already been processed. They're on their way to the airport.”

“The airport?!” Emma screeched.

“Gold's got friends in high places,” he reminded her. “He's being deported.”

Emma couldn't breathe. She couldn't  _ think. _ Elsa and her mother were at her side in moments, holding her. This was so much worse than she expected. Deported? How? But then she remembered, Killian—for all his time in the States—had never become a citizen. He was here on a student visa. She wasn't sure what the ins and outs of those were, but since Gold had likely trumped up something to get the Feds to take him, it didn't matter.

But this was far worse than a simple arrest. Killian was being sent out of the country. Possibly forever.

No, no, no. She could fix this. She  _ could _ . Emma was not losing him.

“I'm going to the airport,” she announced. “We're going back to New York and _fixing_ this.”

No one argued with her.

The next few hours were a bit of a blur. The Feds transporting Killian had a headstart; Emma missed their plane by half an hour. She paced some more while they waited for the first flight to take them to the mainland; she didn't care where. It was late, so there weren't many flights at all. At midnight, they caught a red eye to Seattle of all places. Her mother called ahead, waking their driver, demanding he be at JFK when they landed.

The connecting flight to New York had a layover in Chicago; Elsa convinced her to get out and stretch, eat a snack. Emma knew she should be tired, but she was too worried about Killian. What if they just sent him back to England and she didn't get to see him? He didn't have anything aside from the clothes on his back. He had no relatives, no place to go.

He'd said it himself; England wasn't home. Not anymore.

She was going to murder Neal if she ever saw him again. How could he be so fucking petty?

When they finally landed in New York, Emma was exhausted in ways she'd never even imagined. It was nearly noon; she'd been awake for over twenty four hours. Her old room in the penthouse felt like a foreign country; it took all of her patience to shower and redress, getting the traveling grime off her skin.

“Emma, you have to sleep,” her mother said, clearly worried.

“Mom, I'm not stopping until I've fixed this.”

“Honey, you're been going nonstop. You're going to kill yourself like this. Would Killian want that?”

“He's at the consulate,” her father added. “He's safe for now. I've got our people working on it.”

“Are you sure?” It wasn't that she didn't trust her father, but she wanted to see Killian with her own eyes.

Unbidden, her dad hugged her. Emma sank into his arms, overcome with exhaustion. “I promise. We'll fix this, Emma. But you should rest.”

She nodded into his shoulder. “Okay.”

Elsa, who hadn't left her side since Emma declared she was going to the airport, stayed with her. It was almost like they were kids again, sharing Emma's huge bed. She missed Killian fiercely, missed his warmth, his voice murmuring in her ear. It was like a knife in her chest; it was still hard for her to breathe. This was so unfair; they were so happy.

Emma slept, but not well. She'd gotten accustomed to Killian sleeping beside her; it was much too quiet. And cold. She missed his arm thrown casually around her waist or his leg slipped between hers.

When she couldn't stand trying to sleep any longer, she crawled out of bed. Coming into the huge main area of the penthouse, she immediately knew something was very wrong.

“What happened?”

David winced. “U.S. Air Marshals put Killian on a plane bound for Heathrow an hour ago.”

“I thought we were going to fix this!”

“We _are_ , Emma. But it takes time.”

“Screw time! Killian didn't do anything, damn it!” What was the point of being ridiculously rich if she couldn't get the man she loved back? Completely fed up, Emma marched back to her room, rifling through her desk for the thing she'd forgotten when she left New York all those months ago: her passport. If she couldn't see him in New York, she'd just go to London and wait for things to get sorted out there.

At least they'd be together.

That turned out to be easier said than done. When she got to JFK, she got pulled aside by security almost immediately.

“What _now_?” she hissed, not at all happy. She was about at her wit's end; this was insane. Killian got fucking _deported_ because her ex couldn't stand the fact that she'd moved _on_. Just couldn't stand the sight of her being happy with someone else.

Fuck him.

Emma sat in a stark white room, drumming her fingers on the table, waiting for  _ someone _ to tell her what was going on. If they didn't hurry, she'd miss her fucking plane and Emma was in  _ no _ mood deal with any of this.

“Hello, Miss Nolan,” a balding man in his fifties said, stepping into the room. “My name is Albert Spencer and I'll be looking after you today.” There was a faint trace of an accent, English maybe?

“What's going on, Mr. Spencer? I'm going to miss my plane.” She tried to sound calm, but she was really, really annoyed.

“Yes, you were headed to London,” he said calmly. “Any particular business?”

What was this “were” business? She was going and that was that. “Personal business,” she said finally, looking him in the eye. “That a crime now?”

Spencer shook his head. Instead of letting her go, he asked her more questions. Christ, it sounded like he was trying to get her life story out of her. “What is this all about, Mr. Spencer? I don't really see the point and I'd like to catch my plane.”

Spencer fingered her passport, swallowing. “I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that.”

Emma's brow creased, anger and annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. “My passport's in order and this is a free country. So do you mind telling me just what the hell you're talking about?”

Spencer looked sympathetic, but stern. “Your name is on the 'no fly' list, Miss Nolan. We were alerted when you tried to get through security.”

“That's not possible.” The “no fly” list was supposed to be for terrorists and other sketchy people. At least, that was what she'd always thought. Now it seemed much more sinister.

“I assure you it is.”

There was only one person who had the pull and connections to put a completely law abiding person like Emma on that list. Gold. Did he get some perverse enjoyment at pissing her off? Did Neal expect her to come groveling or some shit? They really were two of a kind. Jesus Christ.

So Killian was gone, back to England. He had nothing. And now, Emma couldn't (for the moment) follow him because the damn authorities wouldn't let her leave the country. She almost burst into hysterical laughter at the absurdity of it.

Emma snatched back her useless passport and left. She didn't know how she was going to fix this yet, but she would figure it out.

Robert Gold had fucked with the wrong woman.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Ten days, fifteen hours and forty two minutes. That's how long it had been since the Feds had carted Killian off. Not that she was counting.

“Emma, you have to eat something.” It was Elsa, trying once again to coax her into eating.

“I'm not hungry.”

“You said that at breakfast too.”

“Well, it was true.”

Elsa huffed in frustration. She snatched a mirror off Emma's vanity and shoved it on her face. “You're not sleeping, not eating. There's circles under your eyes. _Look_.”

Emma frowned. “Why does it matter what I look like? I'm trying to actually  _do_ something to get Killian back!”

“I know you miss him, but running yourself into the ground is not going to help. I promise you.”

Emma pushed the mirror aside and buried her face in her hands. “It's been dead end after dead end,” she whispered. “I don't know what to do.”

She'd spent all her time since her disastrous visit to JFK on the phone. Or on her laptop. She contacted the State Department, INS, both senators' offices. All of them had given her the run around. Her father hadn't had much better luck. Whatever Gold had promised them, she couldn't counter it. There didn't seem to be anything else she could do.

And she couldn't face it.

Elsa wrapped her arms around her friend. “We'll think of something,” she said. “I know it.”

“Isn't Anna the optimistic one?”

Elsa chuckled. “Perhaps it's rubbing off on me.”

Emma felt doubly guilty because Elsa was spending all her time with  _her_ . Will had come with them to New York (Robin was still at home, watching Killian's belongings), and now he was getting the short end of the stick.

“But I really think you should sleep. Then eat. Seriously, Emma,” Elsa continued. “Maybe we could all have dinner later? Put our heads together.” Emma started to protest. “If anything changes, I will wake you. I promise.”

Emma could see the worry in Elsa's eyes. She knew her friend was only looking out for her. She decided to take Elsa's advice. “Okay. Just for a little while.”

It took her a while to fall asleep, but it was a testament to how tired she was that she didn't dream. A long cleansing sleep, it turned out, was exactly what she needed. She felt alert for the first time in days, alert and just a  _little_ optimistic. They would figure this out.

She decided to shower and change before joining the others. She slipped on Killian's UH shirt, the cotton soft on her skin. It still smelled faintly of him. The scent of salt and sweat and spice made her heart clench; she hadn't thought it was possible to miss someone this much. That goofy grin, those bottomless blue eyes, him teasing her over another clumsy mishap.

She  _had_ met him because she spilled coffee on him, so she supposed she had that last one coming.

And yet it was more than that. She missed knowing he would be there when she came home. She missed  _having_ a home of her own (okay, so it was technically his place, but she'd been living with him so long it kinda felt like theirs). She missed vegging with him in front of the TV, watching Netflix, while he played with her hair. She missed getting random texts from him for no reason at all. She missed his face when he tried one of her new recipes, pronouncing it excellent whether it actually was or not.

In the months they'd been together he truly had become the other half of her, the part she'd been missing and hadn't even known it.

Well, she sure as hell knew it now and she was getting him back. She was getting their life back.

Her friends and family were gathered in the living room, waiting for her. While she was glad to have their support, she was painfully reminded that Killian didn't have anyone. He'd been forced back to his home country with no money, no family, no friends, no place to go.

“Hey, did they find a place for him?” Emma asked, glancing at her dad.

David already knew what she meant. “Yeah. Archie got him all set up. Small flat in Westminster, I think it was.”

Emma sighed in relief. At least Killian had a place to live until she could get him back. Killian's phone and wallet had been confiscated when he'd been arrested; he literally only had the clothes on his back. Emma had arranged for someone from the London office of Nolan Tech to look after him right after she got back from her aborted attempt to follow. She knew he would protest, but she wasn't letting him fend for himself, not if she could help it.

“I hate this,” she said to no one in particular.

“It's not your fault, lass.” Emma looked up in surprise; Will hadn't spoken to her much since they arrived in New York. She just assumed he was pissed at her. She was pissed at herself. Logically, she knew there wasn't anything she could have done, but she still felt like she should have done _something._ Killian was only in this mess because he'd had the audacity to fall in love with her.

“Doesn't really feel like that.”

Mary Margaret agreed with Will. “You did nothing wrong, Emma. This is Gold's doing.”

“Still want me to go to his damn party?”

“Certainly not. I've already withdrawn our RSVPs.”

Emma couldn't help it; she laughed. Seems she wasn't the only one who'd changed over the summer. It was the first genuine laugh since that terrible moment when Killian had been taken from her.

“Emma? Are you okay?” Elsa asked worriedly.

She took a deep breath to calm herself. “Yeah. Can we eat? I'm starving.”

Everyone gathered in the large dining room, formality thrown aside in the name of comfort. Their chef had made some of Emma's favorite things and she ate greedily. Knowing Killian was safe and not homeless did wonders for her peace of mind. The group made small talk, each trying to think of a way out of Emma's quandary. Killian couldn't get back and she couldn't get to him. It seemed impossible.

“Elsa,” Anna said, still chewing on some chicken, “how did you get to Hawaii without anyone knowing?”

Both Elsa and Kristoff went a bit pink. “Anna, I explained this, remember?”

Anna looked a bit hurt. “I still think you should have told me. I can keep a secret.”

“It wasn't a _secret_ exactly,” Elsa replied. “I just didn't want to draw attention to myself, Anna.”

“Aye, with those bloody photographers downstairs, I can't really blame you, love,” Will said, brushing Elsa's shoulder sympathetically.

“Okay, so for those of us who _missed_ this little quest,” Mary Margaret said, a bit testily, “would anyone care to explain?”

Briefly, Elsa and Kristoff explained how he'd gotten her as far as Los Angeles in the Rangers' plane. It sounded complicated and a bit harrowing, but if her friend could something like that for her...

“So what are you suggesting?” David asked. “We smuggle Emma into England?”

“But how?” Elsa asked. “There's all those paparazzi outside.”

Indeed, they had been gathering since the group arrived back in the city; Emma Nolan's shady foreign boyfriend getting deported was quite the story apparently. Emma was disgusted; they were like vultures. But Elsa wasn't wrong. Doing anything covertly was going to take some doing.

“Maybe not England,” Kristoff said slowly.

Emma turned to him, a small kernel of hope blooming. “What do you mean?”

Kristoff hand his large hand through his blonde hair. “I'm getting my turn with the Cup soon. I tried to postpone, but it's on a strict schedule. I wanted to take it to my hometown; it's never been to my country before.”

Emma grasped the import immediately. “Kristoff, I can't ask you to do that.”

Kristoff sat up a bit straighter. “I'm not asking, Emma. I'm offering. If we can get you out of the US, then you should be able to go anywhere you want.”

It sounded too good to be true. But what did she have to lose? Well, if caught, they would probably lock her up. And Kristoff. That would be...not good. But it was Killian. She knew that if she could just get to him then everything else would fall into place.

“Actually,” Will piped up, more timid than Emma had ever heard him, “I think I might have a less dodgy solution.”

“ _Less_ dodgy? You?” Emma snarked.

“Aye, I deserved that.” Will stood up. “I think I know someone who can help.”

“Who?”

Will looked at Elsa, then straightened his shoulders. “Anastasia. She's here. In New York.”

Elsa looked stunned. So did Emma. Everyone else just looked confused, since they weren't privy to the complicated history. “What do you mean _here?_ And how can she possibly help?”

“I didn't know,” Will said, more to Elsa than anyone else. “I didn't know until the other day, when I caught her on the telly. Bloody well threw me for a loop, I can tell ya that.” Will sighed heavily. “My oh so charming ex ran off with some rich bloke some years ago.” Emma knew this was for the others' benefit. “Turns out he became one of the senators to this wretched state a couple of years ago.”

“Senator Collins' wife?” Elsa cried. “ _That's_ Anastasia?”

“Aye.” Will suddenly couldn't look Elsa in the eye.

“But I've called Collins' office. Eight times,” Emma retorted. “What makes you think this would be different?”

Will's face hardened. “I was thinking of payin' her a visit. I think I could make a fairly persuasive case that she _owes_ me, don't ya think?”

“And she could convince the senator to get the ban lifted so Emma could travel,” Mary Margaret said, understanding lighting her face.

“I'm coming with you,” Emma said instantly.

“So am I,” Elsa said.

“Elsa...” Will began.

“Don't you 'Elsa' me, Will Scarlet,” she snapped. “I'm not letting you see that woman alone.” Will held up his hands in defeat.

“So when do we do this?”

“Tomorrow,” Emma replied. “I'm not wasting anymore time.”

True to her word, she, Will and Elsa braved the crowd of paparazzi to hop in a cab to take them to the senator's city residence. Campaign season was in full swing; the senator was scheduled to make a fundraising speech for his colleague that night, with his young wife by his side.

When they got to the highrise, the doorman proved stubborn. Emma slipped him a hundred dollar bill and he let them pass. The security guard wasn't so easy.

“Are you expected?” he said.

“No, but it's imperative we see Mrs. Collins,” Elsa said sweetly.

The guard looked skeptical. “I can call up, but if she doesn't want to see you then you'll have to leave.” He picked up the receiver and dialed the Collins' penthouse. After a brief clipped conversation, he said, “I understand. I'll let them know, ma'am.”

“Oh come _on_ ,” Emma cried. She couldn't fail _now._

Will tapped on the glass. “Tell her Will Scarlet's here to see her.”

The guard raised a brow, but did as Will asked. In a moment, his entire demeanor changed. “Yes, ma'am. Right away, Mrs. Collins.” He hung up and buzzed them through. “Take the elevator up to the thirty fifth floor. Door's at the end of the hall.”

They did as he said; Emma hardly noticed the décor when they got off the elevator. The whole thing seemed to be laid out much like her parents' place. When they got to the door, Will knocked smartly. He was dressed much like he always was, jeans, blue t-shirt, leather jacket. Maybe he was counting on nostalgia to win Anastasia's sympathy.

The maid opened the door and ushered them inside. “Mrs. Collins will be with you shortly.”

“So this is what a government's salary gets ya?” Will said derisively, looking around.

“Senator Collins comes from old money,” Elsa said. “His good looks and youth overcame that at the polls.” Emma had to suppress a laugh. Elsa was right. Liberal New York didn't care, as long as you presented yourself progressive politics.

They waited for nearly twenty minutes, Emma getting more and more agitated. Kristoff's offer was still on the table, but they had a tiny window to make that work. She only wanted to use it as a last resort. It was one thing to put herself in the way of the authorities; it was another for her friends.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” came a melodically accented voice. It was weird to see the woman she'd seen on the news and at events as the same woman who broke her friend's heart. Wait, Will was her friend? After this, how could she consider him anything else? Anastasia was stunning, long blond hair flowing down her back, deep red business suit flattering her curves. But for all her confidence, her eyes gave her away. “Will Scarlet.”

Will's face was unreadable. “Ana.”

“How did you find me?”

“What, no 'how ya been'?” Will asked, one fist clenching. “It's been a long time, Ana. Ya seem to have done alright for yerself though.”

“Yes, I'm very happy,” the blonde snapped. “Why are you here? And you never answered my question.”

Will's jaw clenched. It reminded Emma a bit of Killian. “He's here for me,” Emma spoke up. “We—I—need your help.”

Anastasia sneered at her. “Funny, you don't seem like his type.”

“Because she's not a bloody harpy?” Will snapped. “Emma's my friend. Now if ya still got some kinda heart in that chest, yer listen to what she has to say. Ya owe me this, Ana.”

Anastasia looked from Will to Emma, then her eyes fell to Elsa. “My, my, you've made some very interesting friends, Will.”

Elsa's icy blue eyes flared, but she said nothing. She merely took Will's hand. Emma stepped between them, knowing that if this got out of hand, her chance would be shot. And she'd had enough ex-lover drama to last her a lifetime. Briefly, she explained what happened, and how she'd been stonewalled at every turn. Anastasia's face was a mask, but Emma knew she was listening.

“What do you think I can do?”

“Are you daft, woman?” Will said angrily.

“I'm a senator's _wife_ , Will,” she reminded him. “And a _junior_ senator at that.”

“There has to be something. A favor? I couldn't even get your husband's office to take my calls.” Emma was getting desperate.

The door opened behind them. To Emma's shock, Senator Collins himself stepped though the door loosening his tie. Elsa immediately looked at Will but he looked away, his hand tightening around hers. Emma felt so bad for him, forced to see his ex like this, and all on her behalf. If this worked, she would be nicer to him in the future. He was really going out on a limb for her and Killian.

“Ana, dear? What's going on?”

Anastasia was all smiles. Looked a bit fake to Emma, but she dared not say anything. “An old friend stopped by, Tom. He and his friends were just leaving.” Emma started to protest, but Anastasia cut her off with a look. “Leave it to me,” she mouthed behind her husband's back.

Emma glared. Could she take the woman at her word? She hadn't hesitated to abandon a guy she supposedly loved. Ana's expression turned pleading. Emma nodded once. They said started to say their goodbyes, but the senator stopped them.

“Aren't you Emma Nolan?” he asked. “David Nolan's daughter.”

Emma nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“How is your father? I was planning on calling him next week about a proposal.”

Emma decided to be honest. “A bit frazzled at the moment. He and I have been trying to contact INS about a mistake they made, but we've had no luck.”

“A mistake?” Senator Collins, gestured toward the large armchairs. “Come, have a seat. Tell me all about it and we'll see what we can do.” The senator seemed oblivious to the lingering tension in the room, listening to Emma's story in detail. He was appalled at what he heard. The one good thing about public officials was that they were eager to help constituents, especially wealthy ones.

“I understand your plight, Miss Nolan.” His eyes flickered to Ana. “And I don't doubt for a second that Robert Gold is capable of what you've accused him of. But he is a powerful man. Not many would gainsay him.”

“But I'm sure he's probably paid _someone_ off!” Emma cried.

“And I'm sure you're right, but without proof, there isn't much anyone can do.”

Elsa spoke up for the first time. “Senator, surely you can get Emma _off_ the no fly list. She's never even had a traffic ticket.”

“I can make a few calls. But it may take time. I take it you'd like to leave the country as soon as possible, Miss Nolan?”

“Sooner would be better.” She wasn't sure how much longer she could take this ache in her chest.

The senator sat back, pondering. Finally, he said, “The no fly ban is only for commercial flights. Many don't know that. The new ambassador to the UK is flying to London in three days. I can get you on that flight; as an official government flight, your right to fly would not be questioned. Meanwhile, I'll get my staff to work on your dilemma.”

“Tom, that is a wonderful suggestion,” Anastasia said, smiling. “And very astute.” Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Gold's never liked me. Thought I was just a dreaming upstart. If we can bring him down a peg or two, I say that's a win.”

“He deserves more than that,” Emma said.

The senator smiled. “I don't disagree, but again...”

“We lack proof.”

“Precisely.”

_There has to be some, somewhere_ , Emma thought. She would find it. And hopefully send Gold and Neal away for a very long time. Not long after, Emma, Elsa and Will said their goodbyes. Emma thanked the senator profusely; she finally had something concrete to hang on to. There was a stiff nod between Anastasia and Will, then she was gone.

When they got in the elevator Emma surprised everyone by hugging Will. “Thanks,” she said softly. “I know that wasn't easy.”

Will patted her awkwardly on the back. “It was nothing, lass.”

“It wasn't and I won't forget it. You _do_ have a heart, Will Scarlet.”

Will nodded, still a bit stiff. Surely, seeing Ana again had thrown him. “Ana made her choice and I've made mine,” he said, taking Elsa's hand. “And I'll be buggered if I watch my friends get screwed over.”

“We're friends now?” Emma teased.

“I won't tell if you won't.”

Elsa laughed. “So are you gonna tell Killian the good news?”

Emma bit her lip. “No,” she said as they headed out to catch another cab. “I don't want to get his hopes up if something else goes wrong.” She hadn't spoken to him since his arrest, since he no longer had a phone.

If her luck had truly changed she'd be in his arms in a few short days.

* * *

Killian's trainers hit the pavement in a steady if frustrated rhythm. He'd been stuck in his  _home country—_ something he thought with the utmost sarcasm—for over two weeks. And while that didn't seem like a long time, it felt like forever. The sky just wasn't as blue, the air as clean. He hadn't realized how  _attached_ he'd gotten to his island home until he was forced from it in cuffs.

Although if he was being really honest with himself, he knew it was Emma he missed. He could still see her face as they took him away, her green eyes heartbroken. He'd been far too worried about  _her_ to have a care for himself. He'd spent too many years shifting for himself; he knew he could handle it. Emma, though...if she felt as terrible as he did, his heart broke for her. He missed her so much; his chest ached.

He'd started looking for a job a couple of days ago. He wasn't sure how long he would be here (he couldn't even think about being stuck here  _forever_ , it was too awful); while he appreciated Emma's generosity, he needed to work. It would keep his mind off things, at least a little.

He still wasn't sure what to do about his thesis, but he could figure that out later.

Killian dodged a few other runners, sweat pouring down his back. It was a humid,  _muggy_ day, but he kept going, wanting the distraction. He'd been doing this exact same run since he settled into the place obtained for him by that Archie bloke, not far from his old neighborhood. That was its own brand of torture.

It didn't help that he saw Emma with every blonde haired lass he passed.

What was he going to do? To be deprived of her so cruelly...in some ways, it was worse than losing Liam and his mother. At least they were at peace. Emma was three thousand miles away, probably suffering from the same kind of agony he was. The thought of her in pain tore at him. He hated it. When Archie told him what happened when Emma tried to come to England, he threw the poor man's inkwell across the room in anger.

How could one man be so cruel?

Killian ran faster, trying not to think. He hadn't been in London in seven years, but he still remembered his way around. Perhaps he knew it a little too well, as his feet carried him to the cemetery. Again. The familiar bronze angels on either side of the gated entrance glowered down at him as he passed. He tried to ignore them, but he got no further than the corner before doubling back, his conscience finally getting the better of him.

He slowed to a walk as he stepped through the gate, plucking his new earbuds out of his ears. Killian shoved the mp3 player into his pocket, the silence and stillness of the place settling over him like a shroud. He moved almost automatically, despite not stepping inside the place in nearly a decade.

The stones looked exactly the same as when he'd last seen them. Liam to the left, his mother to the right.  _Beloved son and brother_ , Liam's read. His mother's had a Bible verse on it; Killian hadn't really been paying attention at the time, the weight of suddenly being completely alone in the world bearing down heavily.

Killian knelt down in the grass, plucking away some weeds. He tried not to stare too hard at the stones, but it was difficult. Would they be proud of him? Would they hate him for running away? Sometimes he had trouble remembering Liam's laugh or his mother's smile. He only had a few mementos of them; they, of course, were in his apartment in Hawaii. If he still  _had_ an apartment. Killian didn't really know.

“I miss you,” Killian said softly. He blinked, trying to pretend it was sweat in his eyes and not tears. “And I miss _her.”_

A lump formed in his throat and he suddenly couldn't stop, hot, angry tears splashing down his cheeks. He buried his face in his hands, ashamed at his breakdown. Sobs wracked his shoulders, the feeling of being alone once more finally breaking through his control. He was so close to being happy, to having the life he'd only dreamed about and it had been taken away. It was his worst nightmare come to life.

Worse, he didn't see a way out.

He wound up on his ass at some point, leaning heavily against his mother's stone. He was  _tired_ and lonely and scared, though he'd never admit it out loud. Emma was the only one who saw through all his bravado and charm; she was the only person he felt safe with. And now he'd lost her. Possibly for good.

What was he supposed to do now?

Get off his ass for a start. Emotions locked down once more, Killian got up, brushed off his legs. Then he gave the stones one final glance and turned away. He needed to put the past behind him. When he got back to his temporary flat, he'd start job hunting once again. Then he'd call Dr. Teach and see if it was still possible for him to finish his degree, even out of the country. Perhaps there were some places in Britain looking for a marine biologist. Or he could go somewhere else. He didn't really care anymore.

Killian walked back to his flat, not in any hurry despite his new plans. He knew there was something a new job or a change of scenery couldn't fix. They couldn't bring Emma back. And he could never ask her to give up her home for him. That was unfair. This was his fault. He should have left her alone.

But did he really want to live in a world where he didn't know her? Not know how she felt in his arms, the sound of her laugh, the brightness of her smile? Of course, if they hadn't met then he wouldn't know to miss her, right?

Somehow Killian doubted that was true. Somehow he'd know. He'd been missing her for years, they simply hadn't met yet.

He trudged up the stairs—the building was old and didn't have an elevator—wiping sweat from his brow. A nice shower and a change of clothes. That's what he needed. Forget about all the misery and drudgery and start fresh.

Killian stopped dead in his tracks, turning the corner of the hall. There was a lump with blonde hair curled up in front of his door. At least Killian was fairly certain it was his. Almost too scared to hope, Killian crept closer, hardly daring to  _breathe_ .

“Emma?” God, he didn't know what he would do if the world was playing a joke on him. When the lump didn't stir, Killian knelt down beside it, gently shaking a shoulder. “Swan?”

There was a grunt, then the lump stirred, inelegantly raising its— _her—_ head. He could have sworn his heart stopped in the second it took for her to fully open her eyes and look at him. “Killian?”

She had circles under her eyes, no make up, her hair was a mess, and her business suit rumpled and disheveled, but she was by far the most glorious creature he'd ever seen. “Aye, love. It's me.”

A huge grin split her face and she  _tackled_ him, capturing him in a full body hug.  _“Killian!”_ she screeched happily.

A laugh bubbled up in his throat as he held onto her for dear life, burying his nose in her hair. The familiar scent of sunflowers assaulted his nose and he thought his heart would burst. “How?” he asked, voice muffled by her hair. “How are you here?”

He was surprised when she shuddered, even more surprised when he got a look at her face, wet with tears. “Emma?” She  _was_ happy to see him, wasn't she?

“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled, wiping at her cheeks. “I didn't mean to cry.”

Killian cradled her face. “Happy tears?”

Emma sniffed and nodded. “Yeah.”

As she stared down at him, he knew explanations could wait. “This might sound daft, but I'd really like to kiss you now.”

“You know you never have to ask.”

“Just making sure it's really you, Swan,” he joked. He cradled the back of her head and brought her lips to his. He could feel it all the way to his toes; she melted into him, mouths fused together. The pure joy of holding her again made his skin tingle and spark. He angled his head, deepening the kiss, and Emma opened for him eagerly, hands fisted in his shirt.

Surely, this was what heaven felt like.

Eventually they had to come up for air; they were still in the hallway, sprawled on the floor. He didn't want to move—he could feel every bit of her pressed against him—but they really, really should. Killian combed his fingers through her hair, the tresses not quite as soft as he remembered. “Swan, not that I'm complaining, but perhaps we could continue this  _inside_ ?”

Emma had already leaned into his touch, almost cat like, but nodded. “Okay.”

She started to move, but Killian stopped her. “I didn't say you had to move, love.” He picked her up, her laugh bright and happy, clinging to his neck. She wound her legs around his waist as he fumbled with his key, taking far too long to get the door open. Once he did, he kicked her bag just inside then followed, shutting the door firmly and  _locking_ it.

Emma was already kissing him, lips sliding over his scruff, fingers teasing the hair at the nape of his neck. He knew they should talk, but god, he missed her so much. Missed waking up with her, stealing kisses whenever the fancy took him, listening to her babble about her day. Most of all he missed how it felt to hold her, to show her just how much he adored her.

“Swan?” he asked. It was only a half hearted protest.

“I need you, Killian. I missed you so much.”

His resolve to talk flickered and died, kissing her again. Killian kicked off his shoes, marching them toward the tiny bedroom. Emma remained wrapped around him, kissing and licking his neck, not caring in the slightest that he was sweaty. He dropped her on the bed with a bounce; it was barely full size and lumpy, but it would do. Socks yanked off, then he was on top of her, kissing her for all he was worth.

Emma moaned, his shirt bunching in her fingers. He pulled away long enough to pull the offending cloth over his head, then started on hers, fingers fumbling with  _buttons_ .

“Tear it,” Emma demanded, her back arching. “Get it _off_.”

Killian growled dangerously, the sight of her already begging going directly to his cock. He took each side of the shirt in his hands and yanked, buttons flying every which way. Some of the cloth tore too, but that only made him burn hotter. He threw the ruined shirt aside, hands curling under her back, pulling her chest toward his greedy lips. He pulled the cups down with his teeth, nipping at one of the puckered peaks.

Emma mewled, hips grinding wantonly. Killian sat up abruptly, pulling her into his lap so she was straddling him. A practiced flick of his wrist and the bra came free, also tossed to the floor. He feasted on her in earnest, hands and mouth teasing her breasts. Her skin flushed the prettiest pink as she threw her head back, back bowing.

Killian slid one hand down her stomach, yanking her slacks open and shoving his hand down. She was hot and slick; fuck, he'd missed how  _wet_ she got for him. Emma cried out as he circled her clit, rocking her hips. “Oh god, right there,” she panted. “So good, Killian.”

He pressed harder, relishing her deep moan. “I never want to let you go,” he breathed, kissing the valley between her breasts.

Emma bucked her hips into his hand. “I'm right here. Right here.” She let go of his forearms long enough to bring his lips back to hers, kissing him hard. “I'm never leaving you again.” She lifted her hips and impaled herself on his fingers, moaning. Emma clung to his neck and rode his fingers, body shuddering as she found her release. Her walls were still fluttering, but he pulled his hand away, shoving her onto her back.

Emma bit her lip, watching him with hooded eyes. Seeing her get herself off like that shredded what remained of his sanity. He wanted to bury himself inside her over and over again until she screamed his name. Her slacks and panties were gone in a flash, then his. He settled between her thighs, running the length of his cock over her wet sensitive cunt; Emma shivered.

“This won't be gentle,” he warned, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder.

Emma ground her hips up, hand drifting down to his weeping cock, stroking him as he teased her. “Don't care,” she declared, her voice low and husky. “I just need you in me.  _Now._ ”

Killian reared back, letting her guide him, then thrust forward, taking her  _hard._

“Yes!” Emma cried.

Christ, she was so  _tight_ , but so slick from her first orgasm that he slid right in, all the way to the hilt. As he promised, he wasn't gentle, couldn't have been if his life depended on it, so desperate was he to have her after believing he'd never get to have her again. He pressed her leg back toward her chest, kissing her, wet sloppy kisses, the sound out slapping skin and hungry kisses filling the small room. Emma clawed at his shoulders, her body beginning to tremble.

“Come for me, Emma,” he panted, not slowing down. “Want to feel it.”

“ _Killian!”_ she screamed, as she exploded under him, walls gripping him hard. His hips stuttered once, twice, then he was there too, coming with a hoarse shout. His whole body was suffused in bliss, every nerve firing as he struggled to catch his breath.

They sank down into the mattress, Killian rolling off so he didn't crush her. He didn't let her get far, drawing her into his side, lips brushing her damp forehead. “I love you,” he breathed.

Emma hummed lazily. “Love you.”

They might have dozed; Killian wasn't sure. He knew that he hadn't been sleeping well and if the dark circles were any indication, Emma hadn't been either. All he knew was the feel of her in his arms, in his bed.

The shadows were lower on the walls when he heard her stomach growling. “Swan?” he asked, hand skimming her side. “Wake up, love.”

Emma stirred, blinking up at him. “Hmmm?”

“Sounds like you're hungry.”

Emma wiped at her eyes. “Maybe I am. A little.”

“How about I order us something, then you can tell me how you're here with me.”

Emma smiled faintly. “Just don't go far, okay?”

“You'll be able to see me the whole time. I promise.” He imagined it would take some time before they were comfortable being away from each other. Even for a little while. Killian kissed her again, then got up, heading for the portable phone. He'd avoided getting a new mobile, part of him still hoping he would get to go home. He ordered a few things from the Indian place down the street and returned to the bed, gathering Emma in his arms. “See? It's like I never left.”

He soon realized that was the wrong thing to say, as Emma's grip on him tightened. “Oh, love. I'm sorry.”

“No, it's not you. I'm just being silly.”

“Emma, you are not silly. After what we've been through, I think we've earned this.”

She kissed his chest. “I never even asked. Are you okay? They didn't hurt you?”

He smiled. “I'm fine. Much better now that I'm holding you again.”

Emma snuggled even closer. “I missed you. I've never missed anyone that much.”

“I shall take that as a compliment, even though I hate that I caused you distress.”

“Killian, this wasn't your fault. It's Neal's fault and Gold's.”

Killian grimaced. “Can we not talk about them when we're in bed like this?”

“Sounds good to me.” Emma leaned up and kissed him, letting it linger. “Better?”

“Much.” He brushed a lock of hair back. “So are you going to explain how you got here or am I to live in suspense?”

“I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you.”

“I'd still like to hear it.”

“Well, it was mostly due to Will,” she began. Killian couldn't hide his astonishment as she told him the tale. Visiting that wretched woman, Anastasia. Using Elsa as a decoy to throw off the paparazzi. Emma herself going out a back entrance and into a cab. Getting waved through as part of the senator's entourage to the government plane, the long flight to Heathrow.

“Once we landed, I got Archie to bring me here. I hope you don't mind.”

“Love, finding you on my doorstep might have been the happiest moment of my life.”

Emma blushed, but looked just as happy as he felt. She crawled up his body, lips slanting over his. He kissed her back fervently, hands sliding over her skin. She was just as soft and warm as he remembered, soft moans tumbling from her lips. His hands kneaded her ass as she straddled him, desire rising again.

Until there was a sharp knock on his door.

Killian groaned, bitterly disappointed to be interrupted. He slid Emma off him, leaning down to grab his boxers and wallet. There was another knock and Killian hurried to slip the boxers on, heading out to get it. He paid the delivery boy a bit extra, then practically slammed the door in his face. He got some utensils out of his barely stocked kitchen and went back to the bedroom. He didn't want Emma leaving the bed any time soon.

“Hmm, smells delicious,” she said, smiling up at him.

“I got a little bit of everything,” he said, a bit sheepish. God, she was gorgeous, naked and pale against his dark sheets.

“I love Indian food.”

“You do love a little spice in life, don't you, Swan?” he asked, arranging the cartons around them.

“Must be why I fell in love with _you_ ,” she replied, kissing his cheek.

They probably shouldn't have eaten in bed, but hopefully they wouldn't be in this place long. He didn't know what would happen now; indeed, he was too thrilled at having Emma  _back_ that he didn't want to think about it. As they ate, he asked after their friends, marveling at all that had gone on in the brief time he'd been gone.

“Robin's watching all of your stuff,” Emma informed him. “And looking after the _Jolly_.”

“That's nice of him.”

“Well, he needed something to do since he quit.”

“He _what?”_

“Robin and Will quit right after they took you,” Emma said seriously. “Robin said he didn't want to work for someone who betrayed his friends.”

“That idiot,” Killian cursed. “He's got a son!”

“Killian, he's not looking after the _Jolly_ for free,” she explained. “He's officially on the payroll until he gets on his feet.”

Killian wanted to hug her, but his hands were covered in curry. “You are incredible and generous, my love. Thank you.”

“Hey, he's my friend too,” she said. “I wasn't going to let them starve. Just like you.”

“I still can't believe you managed all this.”

“I can't believe you picked _this_ of all the places you could have had.”

Killian shrugged. “You know me, Swan. I couldn't take advantage of your goodness. This was more than enough until I got a job of my own.”

Emma frowned. “You were looking for a job?”

“Aye. I hate just sitting around. And I didn't know when—or if—I'd ever get home. Thought it best to have a back up plan.”

“Oh. That makes sense, I guess.”

“It had _nothing_ to do with you, Emma. I wanted a job for me. I like being self sufficient.” She looked relieved. Killian kissed her shoulder. “Am I forgiven?”

“Nothing to forgive.” Together, they cleaned up the cartons putting the leftovers into the fridge. Killian slipped off his boxers before returning to bed, needing the feel of them naked together. It had been too long. He could tell Emma, for all her amorous intentions earlier, was fading fast. She'd been traveling for the better part of two days.

“Sleep, lass,” he murmured. “I'll be here when you wake.”

* * *

Emma wasn't surprised that they spent her first couple of days in London in Killian's lumpy bed. After so long apart, it felt like learning each other all over again. It was simple and passionate and loving. It felt like home.

But after three days of takeout, Killian declared they were going out.

Emma hadn't brought much in the way of clothes—her clandestine trip as necessitated she kept her luggage to a minimum—but she had brought a sundress or two. Killian teased that she'd brought good weather with her; indeed, since she'd arrived the weather had been perfect, not that they'd gotten out to enjoy it. She knew they needed to talk, but she selfishly wanted to bask in having him back with her for a little while longer.

“I hope you brought a bathing suit,” Killian said as he tugged one of his new shirts over his head.

“Why? Are we swimming?”

“Perhaps,” was all he would say. He wouldn't tell her where they were going either. She had to admit, she kinda enjoyed the mysteriousness of it. It reminded her of their first dates.

“Okay.” She dug in her suitcase and found a couple of options, none of which she could remember putting in there. Elsa's doing, most likely. She'd send her a quick text of thanks later. Emma had been so worried about _getting out_ that she hadn't paid much attention to her wardrobe. She put on a black bikini—which covered a bit more of her than the red or blue ones, but not by much—and slipped on a sundress over it.

“We'll have to stop and get a few things,” he said as they left the tiny apartment—or flat as Killian called it. “That okay?”

“Sure. I still don't know where we're going though.”

“Just stay with me and you'll be fine,” he countered with a wink.

More than fine with Emma, since she didn't plan on letting him out of her sight any time soon. She thought they'd take a cab, but instead they walked for a few blocks, picking up the necessities from a shop. Killian stuffed them in his back pack, then led her to the nearby Tube station. They had to stand in the car, but Emma didn't mind, since it meant she got wrap her arms around his waist. They got a few knowing smiles, one gray haired lady even winking at her. Emma laughed quietly; they were young and in love, why not flaunt it?

It wasn't until they got off that she saw where they were going. “Hyde Park?”

Killian nodded. “I thought a day outdoors might be nice.”

“I like the way you think.” She took his hand as they left the Tube station and marched toward the huge arched entrance, the Queen Elizabeth Gate. It reminded her a bit of Central Park, but this was obviously far older.

“So what would you like to do first, Swan?”

“Maybe we could just walk around for a bit? I've never been here before.”

“As you wish.” He offered her his arm and they set off, just strolling, taking in the sights. Emma snapped a few pictures of some of the statues and fountains; Killian making funny faces in a few of them. She really liked the Boy and Dolphin Fountain, so she took a selfie of them in front of it. The park was pretty busy—it was a Saturday afternoon—the trees cut down on heat and humidity a bit.

They strolled along the Serpentine hand in hand and Emma finally understood what Killian had meant about swimming. There was a swimming area on the far side; it looked cool and inviting with adults and kids splashing in the water.

Killian caught her gaze. “What'd you think, love? A bite to eat then some swimming?”

She nudged him playfully with her shoulder. “If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get me naked,” she teased.

“Love, if I wanted that, then we'd have never left the bed.” His blue eyes roamed over her. “I must say I do like this dress though.”

“Wait til you see what's under it.” She smirked at him, then tugged on his hand. “Come on, I'm starving!”

They walked over the bridge to the far side of the lake, Emma pausing for some more photos. She _was_ getting pretty hungry, but who knew when they'd be here again? If this forced separation had done anything, it had convinced her to never take a moment with him for granted.

They got in line at the Lido Bar & Cafe, Emma ordering a grilled chicken salad and Killian some fish and chips. He convinced Emma to try some more English beer, which she was a bit skeptical about, but went along with anyway. After paying, they managed to snag a table outside, complete with umbrella.

“Almost feels like home,” Killian said, pulling his chair around so he sat next to her rather than across. They could watch the activity on the lake, all the swimmers and small boats.

Emma bit her lip; it was the thing they hadn't really talked about. How to go about getting him back to the United States. She'd stay with him wherever, but they had a home and she wanted to get back there.

“Swan?”

“Nothing.”

“It's not nothing, love. What's going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“I was just thinking about how we're going to get home.”

“Ah.” He took a sip of his beer, looking thoughtful.

Emma picked at her salad. “I was on the phone _every day_ ,” she said, sounding a bit defeated. The run around she'd gotten had nearly driven her mad. “First, I tried to get the deportation order revoked. Then I wanted to just _get here_. Gold's got so many public officials under his thumb, no one wanted anything to do with me. If it wasn't for Will, I might still be stuck in New York.”

Killian covered her hand with his. “I'm so sorry, Emma.”

“We have to find a way to bring him down,” she said vehemently. “Once and for all.”

“Do you think that's wise?”

“Killian, he tried to ruin our lives. _He had you deported for no reason_. Jail's too good for him, but I'd take it at this point.”

“A little bit of revenge? So unlike you, love.”

“That a problem?”

Killian shook his head. “Absolutely not. But we have to get home first.”

“Any ideas?”

“No good ones, I'm afraid.”

Emma sighed. “There has to be something.” They ate quietly for a while, suddenly her salad didn't have much taste. She was still an American citizen. That had to count for something, right? Gold wasn't all powerful, whatever his delusions. What did they do in the movies when something like this happened?

Emma's eyes widened and she dropped her fork. Holy shit. _Holy shit._ Why hadn't she thought of it before? It was so _obvious._

“Swan?”

“We could get married.”

Killian blinked. “Come again, love?”

“I said, we could get married.”

“And...?”

“Think about it. I'm an American citizen. If we got married, then you would be too. Then we could go wherever we want!”

“Emma, I'm not quite sure it works that way.”

“Sure it does. People do it all the time!”

“On the telly, perhaps. But we're in England.”

Emma frowned. “Don't you want to marry me?” She honestly hadn't given it much thought, perhaps she merely assumed it was a matter of time. They were happy as they were, but she didn't intend on ever being without him.

“I didn't say that, love.”

“Then what?” she demanded.

“I don't want to be something you regret, Emma,” he said seriously. “And truthfully, I had imagined this a very different way.”

“But you have thought about it.”

“I'm in love with you, of course I thought about it.”

“I'm in love with you too,” Emma replied, still a bit confused. And honestly, a bit hurt. “So what's the problem?”

“Love, we've only been together for three months.”

“So? Do you think I don't know what I want?”

“As I said...”

“You don't want to be something I regret. Yeah, I heard you.” She threaded their fingers together. “I could never regret anything about us, Killian. I love you. The last couple of weeks have been torture. Could I go back to who I was before I met you? Probably. Do I want to? _No._ We were making plans to live together before all this happened. All I want to do is make it so that nothing can separate us again. Do you understand?”

She rarely said what she was feeling in so many words, but this was important. _He_ was important. She loved him. Would always love him. It may be rushed, but she didn't see a reason to wait.

Killian stared down at her in awe. “You are utterly mad, but god, I love you for it.” He kissed her hard. “In that case, _yes_. I will marry you.”

Emma's cheeks hurt from smiling so much. There were probably some hoops for them to jump through, but now that they had a plan, it felt like an enormous weight had been lifted. Somehow, she'd get to keep him.

They spent the rest of the afternoon swimming. They played their own little private game of tag in the water, spluttering and splashing. There were too many other people for them to get _too_ intimate, but that didn't mean Killian didn't try to take some liberties. In truth, it was difficult for them to keep their hands (and other parts) to themselves.

They'd just gotten engaged, why shouldn't they celebrate?

When they got out of the water, they stretched out on the towels Killian had bought for them, reapplying sunscreen. Emma had to _ignore_ the pull in her gut; the feel of his hands on her skin making her crazy.

“I can't wait to get you home,” Killian murmured, hand skimming over her stomach.

“How big's your shower?” Emma asked with a grin.

His blue eyes darkened. “Big enough.” His hand moved over her hip and down the curve of her ass. Emma had to suppress a shiver. “So many things I want to do to you, lass.” He kneaded her ass cheek discretely. “What do you think, love?”

Emma licked her lips “You know me, up for anything,” she said in a low voice. She bent her legs closer to her chest—it looked rather innocent since she was laying on her side—to give him better access. “As long as I'm with you.” He allowed her to be herself in every way.

Killian fiddled with the tie on her bikini bottoms, his fingers sliding under the material. Emma inhaled sharply, her stomach trembling a little. “God, I missed you so much, Emma,” he rumbled in her ear. He kissed the spot just below her ear, making her shiver. “I think it's time to go, don't you?”

Emma nodded silently, not really wanting to break the moment, but knowing if they didn't they could get into some serious trouble. Her bikini wasn't quite dry, but that was okay. Reluctantly, they broke apart, Emma fishing in the backpack for her dress. She slipped it on while Killian cleaned up their things, replacing his t-shirt. He was losing _that_ as soon as they got back to his flat.

They smiled at each other like a couple of besotted teenagers, holding hands as they wove through the other pedestrians moving toward the Tube station. She hoped they never lost this, the pure joy of being around each other. Killian held her close when they got on the crowded train, back toward a corner. His large hands fell to her hips, thumbs rubbing her back, making her breathing hitch. Emma wiggled her hips against him, just to torment him, pleased to hear his soft groan in her ear.

“Swan...” he whispered.

“You started it,” she reminded him. She was sure her skin was flushed and not from the sun. Just being close to him was enough to make her heart beat a little bit faster.

“Going out today was a terrible idea,” he muttered.

Emma laughed. “If we hadn't, we might not be engaged right now.”

Killian's hands tightened around her middle. “Hmm, I do like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” She wanted to turn around and kiss him, but didn't dare.

“You don't have a ring though.”

She shrugged. “It's okay.”

“No, it bloody well isn't.” He said it with such vehemence that she did turn around, a bit.

“Honestly, it's okay. We'll have the ones that matter.”

Killian's blue eyes were sad. “Are you sure?”

“Very. I just want you, Killian.”

She thought for a second he might cry, but instead he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “I do too, Emma. More than I can say.”

“Guess you'll just have to show me, huh?”

A smirk lit up his face. “Sure you can handle it, Swan?”

“Bring. It. On.”

Their stop couldn't come soon enough. When they did finally exit the Tube, they hurried as quickly as they dared down the few blocks to his flat. Up the stairs and through the door, Killian had her pressed back against it in a flash. His mouth was hot and insistent on hers, kissing her senseless. All she could do was _feel_ , every other coherent thought flying out of her head.

“Shower,” she managed to pant when they came up for air.

Killian nodded absently, fingers threaded through her hair. He ground his hips into hers; she could feel him, already heavy and hard, against her stomach. “Mine,” he growled.

“Yes,” she agreed, hands sliding up under his shirt. They needed to _move_ ; she wanted to feel their naked wet skin sliding against each other. She found the lobe of his ear and and bit down, knowing it would make him crazy.

Killian cursed and jerked them away from the door, pushing her toward the tiny bathroom. She saw him toss his backpack on the bed as he followed, already stripping off his shirt. Emma just barely had enough time to turn on the water in the shower before he was on her again, kissing her deeply and pulling at the straps of her sundress. It fell to the floor in a puddle of fabric and he turned her to face the mirror over the vanity. Emma watched in fascination as he swept her damp hair to one side and kissed along her shoulder, his fingers untying the top of her bikini. The scrap of cloth fell away; Emma sucked in a ragged breath as Killian's hands skimmed up her flat stomach and teased the underside of her breasts.

“I want you to let go for me, love. Just let me take care of you,” he murmured into her skin, eyes locked on hers in the mirror, the blue dark and stormy.

Emma's back arched as he palmed each breast, fondling and squeezing. A flood of heat washed through her, pooling low in her belly. She squirmed, grinding her ass back against his cock. She moaned, biting her lip. “What are you going to do?”

“That, my love, would be telling.” He smirked at her, bringing the aching points of her nipples between his index finger and thumb. He twisted and plucked; Emma had to hold on to the sink to stay upright. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to ease the ache, but Killian shoved his knee between them. “Ah, ah, Swan.”

Emma glared at him in the mirror. “Killian...”

He reached down to pull the ties, letting the last bit of cloth covering her fall to the floor. His fingers danced over her bare mound, then glided through her folds. It felt like heaven. “That better, love?”

“Yes,” she breathed, shivers running down her spine.

“Look at yourself, Emma,” he ordered softly. “Flushed and desperate for my touch.”

Emma looked; her pupils were blown wide, her mouth slightly open, skin a deep pink. Her chest heaved, the nipples hard and swollen as she rolled her hips lightly over his fingers. She found his eyes, filled with desire that matched her own. He tapped her swollen clit and she gasped.

“Watch yourself come,” he said. “But you won't get another until I say. Are we clear?”

If she knew him at all, he was going to torture her, make her dizzy with want, but she was far too curious to gainsay him. She nodded, bracing herself more firmly on the counter. Killian kissed her shoulder, looking pleased. His fingers danced over her clit, making her whimper and moan.

“Eyes up, Swan.”

She forced herself to look into the mirror, to watch as he manipulated her body. One hand fondled her breast, the other teased her clit, sliding through her slick flesh. He worked her up slowly, so _fucking_ slow, until her arms were trembling from holding herself up. She was on the verge of begging for release, for mercy, for _something,_ when three long fingers slid inside her, curling perfectly into her g spot. Emma shattered almost instantly, struggling to keep her eyes open, to watch herself as she fell.

Killian brought her down slowly, muttering words of praise into her skin. She finally let her eyes fall closed, skin still tingling from her high. Once he was sure she could stand (with some help from the sink), Killian let her go and went to check the shower. Steam had filled the cramped space; Emma thought for sure the water must be cold. But Killian adjusted it and slid his trunks off before reaching for her. She came willingly, letting him help her into the shower.

It was small, probably too small for the both of them, but they made due. Emma sighed as the warm water sluiced over her skin, easing her tight muscles. Killian chuckled, stealing a brief kiss, before finding the shower gel. He shared some with her, then got a dollop in his own palm. Oh, this was what she had wanted, them wet and soapy, hands all over each other. Emma didn't hesitate, lathering up her hands and skimming them over his firm chest. Killian did the same, starting on her back, sliding and stoking. Already, Emma could feel desire pool at the apex of her thighs. She drew him down for a kiss, wet and sloppy, Killian growled, his hands squeezing her ass firmly.

Emma moaned into his mouth, soapy fingers tightening in his hair. “Oh god,” she breathed.

“You are so perfect, love,” Killian muttered, molding his hands to her curves.

Emma pressed him back into the wall of the shower, drinking in the sight of him covered in water and suds, his thick cock resting against his stomach. Emma reached out to touch it; Killian hissed, hips rocking up off the tile. She stroked him, sharp firm strokes, until he cried out. He had to stop her, jerking her hand away with a gasp.

“Not until I'm in you,” he panted. He maneuvered them back under the spray, washing off the remaining soap. He kissed her deeply, plundering her mouth, blindly reaching for the faucet. The water shut off abruptly and somehow they managed to get out of the stall without falling. Killian dried her with a towel, pausing occasionally to lick and nip at her skin.

“I'm going to get dirty again,” she said, not caring in the slightest.

“That's the idea,” Killian replied with a sly grin. A few swipes of the towel for himself, then he picked her up and carried her to the bed. Emma pulled him down with her, kissing and nipping at his lips. Killian rolled her over so she was flat on her stomach, kissing down her spine. She shivered, clinging to the sheet. As he fondled her ass, she figured out what his intention was.

“Oh,” she breathed, grinding her hips into the mattress.

“May I?”

Warmth flooded her, her skin burning. “Yes.”

Killian gently spread her legs; Emma hissed as the slightly cooler air hit her sensitive skin. He snatched a pillow and stuffed it under her hips, propping her up. Then his mouth was on her, licking the length of her slit, Emma mewling in pleasure. She felt his tongue tease her puckered hole; she tensed, but soon relaxed, Killian rubbing soothing circles into her lower back. She closed her eyes, letting the sensations wash over her. This was still so new for them, but she loved it.

There was the sound of a zipper and the twisting of a cap—everything was heightened with her eyes closed—then a cool slickness between her spread cheeks. Killian slowly teased her, his fingers working her open. His other hand rubbed her clit, helping her relax and enjoy it even more.

“That feel good, love?” he asked. His voice was rough with desire. He needed her, badly.

“Ooooh, _yes_ ,” she hissed, pushing back a little. His fingers slid deeper and she sighed. She wanted him to stretch her, to feel it deep within her.

“Bloody hell,” Killian cursed. “Fuck, I love you.”

She was surprised when he rolled her over, panting as she tried once more to get her bearings. Killian loomed over her, sliding a condom over his length. He primed her with a bit more lube, pulling her to the edge of the mattress.

“I want to see your face,” he said, by way of explanation. Emma shivered, nodding. She steadied her breathing, waiting for him to push into her. It was even easier this time, only a brief dull ache as the tip of his cock slid into her hole. Emma bit her lip, reaching for and finding Killian's hand, threading their fingers together. He squeezed reassuringly, a deep moan tearing from his throat. _“Fuck_. _”_

He took her slowly, sliding a bit deeper each time. Emma brought her free hand to her cunt, sliding through the hot wet folds. Her back arched, a swell of pleasure rushing through her veins. “Oh fuck yes,” she breathed.

“I love seeing you touch yourself,” Killian bit out, still moving slowly. “So hot, Swan.”

“Christ, faster,” she pleaded, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.

Killian brought her ankle to his lips and kissed it, teeth scraping over the skin. He was quivering, still not wanting to hurt her, but she was too tight, too hot, it felt like he was going to burst. At her command, he increased his pace, spreading her legs wide. Emma cried out; his need for her sending her even higher. She plunged two fingers into her cunt; it felt like she was on fire, hurtling toward an explosion. Killian cursed and grunted, almost out of control now.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck!”_ Emma screamed, her orgasm slamming into her, walls clenching around her fingers. The pleasure was almost too much; her vision going fuzzy around the edges as she clung to consciousness. Killian fell almost immediately, her name on his lips.

Breathing ragged and rough, heart hammering against her ribs, she felt pleasantly used and boneless. She made a tiny whimper of loss when Killian slipped from her, pressing a kiss to her stomach. They were both drenched in sweat, dirty again, just as Killian promised. She didn't utter a word as Killian cleaned her up, shivering as he washed her swollen flesh.

Task accomplished, he crawled into the bed with her, easing her into his arms. “Tired, love?”

Emma smiled weakly. “A little. I think you wore me out.”

“You were amazing.”

“So were you.” But she definitely needed a nap, then some food.

Killian kissed the crown of her head and started to hum softly, stroking her back. She recognized the tune as the one he'd sung for her in Honolulu and it brought a smile to her lips. She snuggled deeper into his arms and was asleep in minutes.

* * *

They took a cab to Nolan Tech's London office. Killian nervously drummed his fingers on his knee, wondering what people's reaction to their decision would be. He still couldn't believe it himself, that Emma had suggested they _marry._ He wanted that, he did, but he had pictured it several years down the road once they were settled in their careers. He'd had more than a few late night fantasies of a fancy dinner, him down on one knee, asking for her hand. A bit old fashioned perhaps, but she brought out those instincts. _And a lot of others_ , he thought, remembering the day before.

He loved her with an intensity that scared him, but he knew she was the same. They were better together.

Emma took his hand in the cab, offering him a smile. “It's gonna be okay.”

“I'm not nervous, Swan,” he lied.

“Sure you're not.” She leaned in close to his ear. “I love you and nothing that happens today will change that, okay?”

“Your father can't murder me from three thousand miles away.”

“Killian, we're telling them we want to get married, not that I'm knocked up.”

“Yet.”

Emma looked at him in surprise. “Wow, you've given some of this stuff a _lot_ of thought.”

His eyes drifted over her, embarrassed to be imagining her carrying his child. “I know we haven't talked about it, Emma.”

“We haven't talked about a lot of things.”

“Do you think we should?”

She looked thoughtful. “We love each other. We were already planning on moving in together. I guess I just thought the marriage and kids thing would take care of itself.”

“Do you want...?”

She put a finger to his lips. “Yes, I want to marry you. And yes, at some point, kids can be a thing.”

“A thing?” he asked, one brow raised in amusement.

“Do you want them _now?”_

He squeezed her hand. “No, I am content to wait. I don't think I'm quite ready to share you yet.”

Emma grinned. “Listen, I know we've kinda blitzed through...stuff. But I'm sure about you, _us_. I can't imagine my life without you. And I don't want to.”

“It's certainly been an adventure, Swan.” He was sure there were still things they would need to sort out, but this was a good start.

When they arrived, Killian led them to Archie's office. He'd spent far more time there than he ever wanted. Hopefully, this would be the last time. His secretary ushered them through.

“Miss Nolan, Mr. Jones, it's good to see you,” Archie said, shaking their hands. “Please, have a seat.” After they sat, he grinned that toothy grin that Killian hated. “So what can I do for you?”

Emma took a deep breath; Killian squeezed her hand. “We want to get married,” she said.

Archie blinked. “Why?”

“Why does anyone get married?” Killian retorted.

Emma soothed him. “Has there been any word from the senator on Killian's case?”

Archie frowned. “I spoke to your father on that yesterday, there was no news.”

“Can you ask him again?”

Archie glanced at the clock. “It's early there, but I can call. Would you like to sit in?”

“Please.”

Archie still looked skeptical, but dialed. It took a few tense moments for the call to go through. “Hello?” David sounded groggy, Killian hoped they hadn't woken him.

“Mr. Nolan, it's Archie in the London office. I'm here with your daughter and Mr. Jones.”

“Emma?” David said, sounding a bit more alert. “How is everything?”

“We're good,” she replied. “Listen, is Mom around?”

“She's right here.” They listened as he switched his phone to speaker as well. “It's Emma and Killian, honey.”

“Morning,” Mary Margaret said. She sounded a bit more awake than her husband. “Is everything okay?”

“We're fine,” Emma repeated. “But we, uh, wanted to discuss something.”

“Okay, shoot.”

Briefly, they talked about the senator and his efforts on Killian's behalf. “He's still working on it, sweetheart,” David said. “Don't give up just yet.”

“I wasn't planning to,” she snapped. “But I think we might have another way.”

“What's that?”

Emma exchanged a looked with Killian. He nodded. “We want to get married.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. It was just beginning to get uncomfortable when Mary Margaret said, “Don't you think that's a bit rash?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I know you probably think it's crazy, but if we get married then that makes Killian a citizen and we can come home.”

“Well, not exactly,” Archie piped up. But before Emma could argue he raised his hands in defeat. “But yes, you both would be able to legally enter the United States.”

“See? It's simple,” Emma said.

“But Emma,” David began, “marriage is a huge step.”

“This was her idea, mate,” Killian put in. “I was just as stunned as you are.”

“But you think you're ready?” David snapped.

_He's just a father trying to protect his little girl,_ Killian reminded himself. “I had intended to wait,” he admitted. “But I always wanted to spend my life with her, David.”

Emma looked at him, surprised. “You did?”

“You belong with me, remember, lass?”

She smiled, making his heart skip a beat. God, he adored her smile. “Yeah, I remember.”

“There's still one problem,” Archie interjected.

“What's that?”

“For someone outside the UK to marry a British citizen, you need to have a visa. _Before_ you travel.”

Killian's heart sank when he saw Emma sag. “Oh.” Coming as she did, it was clear she didn't have one. What could they do now?

“Isn't there anything we can do?” To Killian astonishment, it was Mary Margaret who asked.

David instantly started to argue. “Honey, you can't be serious.”

“They're _us_ ,” Emma's mother said emphatically. “Did we wait?”

“Well, no, but that's different.”

“You only think that because it's Emma.”

Killian exchanged a look with Emma as her parents continued to bicker. Emma laughed silently, mirth filling her green eyes. Might this be them in a couple of decades?

At length the argument died down. David still didn't sound happy, more like resigned. “So how do we do this?”

Archie looked from Killian to Emma. “Are you  _sure_ this is what you want?”

Emma nodded. “We're sure.”

“Okay. I can't promise anything, but I have a contact in the government who owes me a favor. I can call it in, see if they can expedite the application and backdate it.”

“For a price, I'm assuming?” David asked.

Archie looked uncomfortable. “I would imagine so. The visa itself is expensive.”

“I don't care,” Emma said. “I don't want to wait for Collins to cut through whatever red tape Gold's constructed. We have to get back. Killian needs to finish his thesis. And I have the company.”

“Love...” Killian started.

“Do you want to go home?”

“Aye.”

“Then I say we try. It can't be any worse than we are now.”

“Aye, we can try.”

The rest of the conversation was brief. According to Archie, they'd know in a few days. All they could do now was hope.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two things: this is NOT the end (not quite yet anyway) AND I am neither an expert on marriage in foreign countries (if you live in the UK, I am so sorry!) OR immigration. It's fiction, people. Google only gets you so far. ;)

They were supposed to be watching TV.

After their talk with Archie, there wasn't much else they could do but wait. It had only been a couple of days. So they made the best of it, settling into the tiny flat, occasionally doing something _other_ stay in bed. But whatever they did, they were never far out of reach. The pain of separation was still a bit too raw.

Emma leaned into the back of the couch, her legs thrown across Killian's lap. An old episode of  _Doctor Who_ was on, but Emma wasn't really paying attention. She found Killian's profile much more interesting. And the way his hands lightly rested across her shins. His thumbs brushed her skin almost absently, as if trying to remind himself that she really was here with him.

They hadn't talked much about the time apart, but she  _had_ noticed the red rims around his eyes when he found her on his doorstep. She didn't mention it though; he wouldn't want her to know he'd been crying. But it was a reminder that she'd been  _missed_ , just as fiercely as she'd missed him.

Now his eyes were bright and warm and happy. They crinkled adorably when he laughed. They sparked with mischief when he told a particularly dirty joke. And they drank her in when he thought she couldn't see.

“Alright there, Swan?” he asked, rubbing her ankle.

“Yep.”

“So if I asked you what the difference was between the Daleks and the Cybermen, would you know?”

Emma grinned. “Nope. Not a clue.”

“And what had you so fascinated that you missed the show?” he asked, a brow raised.

She shrugged. “Nothing.”

Killian snorted in disbelief and abruptly hauled her into his lap, making the shirt she was wearing (another of his) ride up. Emma screeched in surprise, giggles tumbling from her lips. “Killian!”

“What? You weren't watching the telly anyway.” His eyes drifted over her, hands following and she shivered. “So what _were_ you watching, my love?”

Emma adjusted her seat, straddling his hips. “Maybe I was resting my eyes.”

Killian slid his hands up her bare thighs and hips, under the tails of the shirt. “I think you're lying, Swan.”

“You think you're so irresistible,” she groused. The fact was that he _was_ , and always had been.

“Says the lass who's been staring for the past hour or so.” He brushed his fingers over her stomach. “It's okay, darling, it can be our secret.”

Emma let out a shaky breath, warmth spreading wherever he touched her. “Keep dreaming, buddy.”

He grinned. “I do. Frequently.”

“Bastard.” She rose up a bit, pretending to get away from his wandering hands.

“Still want to marry me?”

Her eyes turned soft. “Of course I do.” She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips, arms coming around his neck. “I love you, remember?”

His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. “Aye.” He kissed her again, harder, more insistent. Emma sighed into it, cupping his cheeks, his day old beard scratching her palms. It didn't matter how often they did this, each time felt new. He tasted faintly of coffee and syrup from their breakfast that morning as she stroked his tongue with hers. She moaned softly as he slowly unbuttoned her shirt, stroking her pale skin. His lips trailed down her neck, beard scratching, and Emma leaned back, arching into his touch.

“Oh yes,” she breathed as he palmed her breast, bringing the already taut peak to his lips. He suckled her greedily, sending waves of heat down her spine.

_Knock, knock, knock._

“Oh bollocks,” Killian cursed. They weren't expecting anyone. What the hell?

“Emma? Killian?” Emma's eyes widened in horror. It was her _mother. Oh shit._ “You in there?”

“I still think we should'ta called first,” they heard Will grouse. “Who knows what they're up to!”

Emma exchanged a look with Killian. “Answer the woman, love.”

“We're here!” she yelled toward the door. “Just...give us a sec!” Good lord, the last thing they needed was her parents catching them half naked on the couch.

Will's laugh made her cringe. They had been doing what he'd thought they were doing, or starting to. “I've got change,” Emma whispered hurriedly, scrambling off Killian's lap. She looked down. “And I think you do too.” There was a damp spot on his boxers, since Emma hadn't been wearing underwear.

“Bloody hell.” Killian followed her—awkwardly—to the bedroom, where they both rifled through their clothes, trying to dress as quickly as possible. Emma threw on a t-shirt and jean shorts—she didn't really have time for undergarments, she would just pray no one noticed—and left Killian to finish sorting himself out.

With the mood effectively shattered beyond recognition, it shouldn't be hard. Oops.  _Stop that, Emma._

She took a deep breath to calm her breathing, thankful that the shirt covered the worst of the whisker burn. She found her parents, Will and Elsa on the other side, looking slightly disapproving but happy. Well, her parents at any rate. Will just looked smug and Elsa smiled knowingly. They were already well aware of Emma and Killian's lack of self control.

Honestly, was it her fault she'd fallen for the hottest guy on the planet? Who also happened to be smart and sweet and thought she was the greatest thing since sliced bread?

Yeah, she didn't think so either.

“Hi!” she said brightly, her cheeks slightly pink from almost getting caught. “We, uh, didn't know you were coming.”

“Poor choice of words, lass,” Will said helpfully.

Elsa elbowed him in the ribs. “Will!” she hissed.

Her parents ignored him. “Emma, did you really think you could get married  _without_ us,” her mother chided. “Honestly.”

She hadn't really thought about that. She didn't want a big production or anything. “Come on in,” she said, stepping back from the door. The flat was mostly clean, since they'd spent the majority of their time in the bedroom. And Emma sure as hell wasn't letting her parents in  _there._

“Nice place,” Will said. “Bit small though.”

Killian emerged from the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. “Wasn't expecting to share it, mate,” he countered. He crossed the room and they hugged, manly claps on the back. Emma and Elsa shared a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“The wedding, o'course,” Will snapped. “Didn't fly three thousand miles for the weather, you daft fool.”

Killian looked around. “You came all this way for that?”

“Need a best man, don'tcha?”

“Will...” Emma knew Killian had been thinking much the same as her, get the paperwork, go to the justice of the peace or whatever they used here and get it done. Although they would need witnesses, Archie had told them that much.

But it meant a lot that their family and friends wanted to be there.

“Thanks, guys,” Emma cut in, looking around. “We just want some thing small, but of course, you can come.”

Mary Margaret looked a little disappointed. “Small?”

“Well, yeah. We want to go home, Mom. As soon as possible.”

“If you're sure that's what you want...”

Killian came to stand next to Emma, his arm around her waist. “We've got a life waiting for us, Mrs. Nolan,” he said firmly. “Less time spent here the better.”

“Let them do this their own way,” her dad said, speaking at last. “They've earned that.”

Mary Margaret blinked rapidly. “Yes, yes, you're right. What do you need us to do?”

Emma shrugged, glancing at Killian. “We've just been waiting for Archie to call. I don't think there's anything else we can do.”

“Do you have a dress?”

Emma frowned. “A dress? Well, no, but...”

“Emma,” her mother said, looking as stern as Emma had ever seen her. “You need a dress. Maybe not something formal, but something nice. You're only going to get married once.”

Emma bit her lip. She'd never been one of those girls who dreamed about her wedding when she was little. And she already had her prince, what else did she need?

“I wouldn't mind having you in a nice pretty dress,” Killian whispered in her ear.

Emma suppressed a shiver, knowing  _exactly_ what he meant. “I don't know....” Her mother's eyes were pleading and Emma could feel her resolve crumbling. “Okay. But nothing over the top. Just a nice simple dress.”

“And Killian should have a suit,” Mary Margaret said, turning to her husband. Emma knew that look. It was the look of the General, who could plan social events in her sleep.

Killian rubbed her back. “Would it be so bad, Swan? To give her this tiny thing?” he said softly. “As long as you're there, it doesn't matter to me. But I rather fancy the idea of celebrating with family.”

Emma's heart broke just a tiny bit for him. Unless you counted Will, Killian wouldn't have any family at their wedding. Her family was effectively becoming his. She reached up and cupped his cheek, thumbing the scar. “Yeah, I do too.”

He smiled that boyish grin and kissed her, even though said family was  _right there_ .

“Alright, alright,” Will said loudly. Emma and Killian disentangled themselves, but only just. “While we wait on the bloody barrister, I say we go grab some nosh.”

Everyone laughed. Emma took a moment to excuse herself, rolling her eyes when Killian gently squeezed her ass. Clearly  _he_ had noted her lack of underwear if no one else had. Once she was presentable, the six of them went out for dinner, catching everyone up on the events of the last several weeks. It was actually fun.

“So have you and Will decided on anything?” Emma asked Elsa when they ducked into the ladies' room of the restaurant.

“By anything you mean?”

“I don't know. Is he gonna stay in New York with you?” Emma had every intention of living in Hawaii permanently; she and Killian could visit New York. Her parents would miss her, but they were only a phone call, email or plane ride away.

Elsa went pink. “I, uh, don't know. We haven't really talked about it.”

“Elsa!” Emma said scandalously.

Elsa swatted her arm. “We're not like you and Killian,” she hissed. “We actually can control ourselves!”

“But you have...you know.”

Elsa went even redder. “Yes,” she replied in a small voice.

“I knew it!” Emma washed her hands, drying them on a towel. “So? How was it?”

“Emma...”

“Come on,” she coaxed. “I told you.” Well, some of it. Elsa knew enough to understand that Emma was having a lot of great sex and enjoying every bit of it.

Elsa leaned back on the counter. “It's...nice. He's gentler than you'd think.”

“I think that's you,” Emma said. “He really likes you, Elsa.”

“I like him too. A lot.”

“So what do you want? I mean, you're welcome to hang out with us. Not like a roommate situation, because that would get really awkward...”

“Like today?”

It was Emma's turn to flush. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I know you, Emma. You two were in the throes of...something when we knocked.”

Emma scrubbed her hand over her face. “You guys heard?”

“Only a little. Your dad started to hum.”

“Oh god.” She looked at Elsa. “Sometimes I wonder if that's...normal, wanting each other like that. All he has to do is look at me, or touch me, and...”

“Some couples are just like that, I think,” Elsa said sagely. “You guys just _connect_ on a very deep level and you want to share it. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Let's try not to share that with my parents, okay?”

“Deal.”

The next day, Elsa was the soul of discretion as she and Emma went with Mary Margaret on a dress shopping expedition. It was quickly apparent that Emma's idea of simple and her mother's were very different. They'd been to three different shops before Emma put her foot down.

“No, no, no!” she yelled, startling the poor saleswoman. “Whose wedding is this, Mom? Yours or mine?”

“Emma! I'm only trying...”

Emma sighed. “I know. But things like this,” she said, picking up the skirt of the fancy ballgown, “are why I ran to Hawaii in the first place. This is your world. Not mine.”

“Oh honey,” Mary Margaret cried. She hugged Emma tightly. “I didn't know this bothered you so much. I am so sorry.”

Emma hugged the smaller woman back. She was sorry for her outburst, but her mother needed to know. “It's okay. We'll just...try again.”

Mary Margaret stepped back sniffling. “Yes, we can do that.” She turned to the saleswoman, who was trying to look busy. “Do you have anything else?”

The saleswoman smiled. “I believe I do. Let me fetch them.” She and her assistant gathered up the rejected dresses and disappeared. When she returned, Emma gasped. The new dresses were white (which was the one thing she and her mother had agreed on), but they were less like formal wedding dresses. The two nearest ones only looked they'd come to her knees, with flowing skirts.

“These are very popular with young brides,” the saleswoman assured them. “Would you like to try them on?”

Emma nodded enthusiastically. “Very much.”

She tried on the first dress. She  _liked_ it but didn't love it. The same with the next two. But the next one...she looked at her reflection in the mirror, the way the skirt swished around her legs (Killian would like that), the sash around the middle, the beading at the top...it was classy and modern and she loved it.

“Oh Emma,” Elsa said, standing next to her. “I love it.”

“Yeah?” She did too, but her friend's opinion meant a lot.

“Very much.” She took Emma's long tresses in her hands, winding them up behind her head loosely. “How about that?”

Emma nodded. “Mom?”

“You look beautiful, Emma,” her mother replied. Emma could see her in the mirror, blinking back tears. “I love it.”

“Well, I guess that means we'll take it,” Emma said, letting out a sigh of relief. She changed back into her regular clothes after they marked it for some slight alterations; the saleswoman assured them it would be ready in a day or two. (Mary Margaret added a healthy tip to ensure promptness.) After, Emma dragged Elsa on another mission while her mother went back to the hotel they were staying at. She wanted to put together a small private reception after the service and Emma didn't have the heart to say no.

Besides, she was only gonna get married once, right?

“Fabulous news!” Killian cried as soon as Emma stepped through the door.

“What?”

“That Archie bloke called,” Will said, a bit tipsy himself. She'd been a little worried when the men went suit shopping today, but they seemed to be in one piece. “He's got yer papers and whatnot.”

Emma stared at Killian. “Really?”

“Aye, love,” Killian said, grinning broadly. He picked her up and spun her around, happy laughter spilling from their lips. “We can get married whenever we want.”

Emma's cheeks hurt from grinning. “That's amazing.” She yelped as Killian kissed her, dipping her.

“And _that_ is our cue to leave,” Will said, taking Elsa's elbow. “Call us when ye come up for air!”

Emma probably should have thrown something at him for his cheek, but she was too happy. As soon as her dress was ready, she would get to marry Killian Jones. And nothing would ever be able to take him from her again.

* * *

Why the bloody hell was he nervous?

Hadn't he dreamed about this?

Yet here he was standing outside the bloody Registar's office with sweaty palms waiting for his bride and her parents.

_Oh my god, I'm really getting married._

Will tapped him on the shoulder. “Here, mate. You look like you could use it.” He produced a flask from out of nowhere. Killian accepted it gratefully, taking a long swig of the rum.

“Thanks, mate.”

Will took it back, tucking it away in his own slightly more ill fitting jacket. “Listen, I didn't want to say anything, but...are ya  _certain_ this is what ya want? And I'm not doubting Emma,” he said, as Killian opened his mouth to protest. “But isn't this kinda...sudden?”

Killian scratched behind his ear. “I thought so too at first. God knows I don't want to be something she regrets.” He paused. “But I love her. More than anything in the world. And she wants me. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, Will. I think I always have.”

“Then I'm happy for ya, mate,” Will replied, clapping Killian on the shoulder.

Killian went back to pacing in front of the squat old building. It was normal to be nervous before a life changing event, right? It didn't mean he had doubts. How could he? Emma was the best thing in his life; he needed her. Sure, they could wait, hope that her senator came through, but he was tired of putting his life on hold. He'd done it for years in the wake of Liam's death. Emma had gotten him to live again and he wanted to get on with it.

He stopped in his tracks when the limo (of course) stopped along the curb. Elsa got out first, looking pretty in a dress of pale blue. Mary Margaret was next, also in blue, followed by her husband. David nodded at Killian and he returned it, recalling their talk the day before. David wasn't entirely comfortable with this but Emma wanted it, so he supported her.

Killian gulped as Emma stepped out of the limo. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but he didn't think there was anything that could have prepared him for  _this._ Her golden hair was piled on top of her head, a few whisps already unspooling. She had very little make up, his favorite, but that dress. It was white, of course, the top beaded, sash cinched around her waist with a flowing skirt that quit just above the knee. Her shoes were barely more than straps, with just enough height to show off her legs.

She was a vision.

“Hi,” she said, cheeks pink, as she looked him up and down.

“Hello, love.”

“You look...”

“Dashing?” he asked with a smirk.

“Maybe.”

“You're gorgeous.” He took her hand and brought the back of it to his lips. “Shall we?”

Her smile made his heart stutter. “Yeah.”

Killian held tightly to her, her arm linked through his, as they navigated the way to the Registrar's office. Will and Elsa were going to sign as their witnesses; indeed, Will was on paperwork _and_ ring duty. Unlike Killian, he hadn't had a drop to drink, not that he doubted his friend. But it was reassuring. Clearly, Elsa was a good influence on him.

The little party of six were ushered into the old cavernous room set aside for such ceremonies. Since Emma wasn't a citizen of the UK, a civil service was all they could have, but it was more than enough for him. She would be his and he would be hers, just as it should be.

“Do you have the papers?” the Registrar asked. He was in his fifties, had a bit of a paunch. He was also balding with spectacles. Killian hoped he could read the service. Or perhaps he had it memorized. He sounded a bit bored, which Killian tried not to take personally. Surely the man did hundreds of these a year, whereas he and Emma would only get one.

“Yea, right here,” Will said, fishing them out of his pocket. He laid them out for the Registrar, who pursued them silently. He took so long, Killian started to get ansty. What if there was something wrong?

“Yes, everything seems to be in order.” Killian let out a sigh of relief. “I just need the signatures of the witnesses and we can get on with things.”

Killian exchanged a nervous smile with Emma as their friends presented their IDs and signed. He didn't want to break the moment by speaking. She was breathtakingly beautiful; he tried to focus on that. She looked happy, but a bit nervous too, which surprised him. This had been her idea, after all. He cocked a brow at her, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. Her face softened and she smiled, squeezing back.

“Are you ready?”

Killian swallowed, glancing at Emma. “We are.”

“Then let's begin.”

Killian only half listened. He caught just enough to repeat where he was supposed to, answer when he was supposed to. He could hear Mary Margaret's quiet sniffles, watching her baby girl get married. Killian's attention flew completely as Emma spoke, her voice a tad higher pitched than usual, a sure sign she was nervous.

When it was time for the rings, Will dropped the box on the floor, earning a nervous laugh from everyone. His face was beet red as he held the box out, Killian plucking the small silver band from it. That was when _he_ almost lost it, putting the ring on her finger. He still felt a bit bad she didn't have an engagement ring, but she had been right all along. This was the one that mattered.

He had the tears to prove it.

He had to take a deep steadying breath as Emma repeated the process, sliding the larger band onto his left hand. It felt odd there, but he'd get used to it soon enough. He had no intention of taking it off. He held Emma's hands tightly, waiting on pins and needles for the end of the service.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the Registrar was saying. Killian's awareness had come back just in time. “You may kiss your bride.”

Emma was already smiling when he kissed her, arms coming up around his neck automatically. In his giddiness, he lifted her off her feet, still kissing. Emma squealed into his mouth, and everyone laughed.

“Maybe you should put me down,” she whispered, aware of all of the eyes on them.

“I'm never letting you go again, Mrs. Jones.”

Emma giggled, kissing him once more briefly, _then_ he put her down on her feet. “I like the sound of that, Mr. Jones.”

Emma's mother arranged for a small private reception at one of London's more exclusive clubs. How she'd managed it he had no idea. But looking around the room, surrounded family—his new family—he couldn't have been happier.

“Before we order some lunch,” David said, standing up, “I'll like to make a toast.” The older man fidgeted, his suit jacket already hanging off the back of his chair. He picked up his champagne flute. “I have to confess...this is not how I imagined this day. Watching Emma grow up, I dreaded it.” Killian was surprised to see the tears in the other man's eyes. “I dreaded it because I was jealous. Jealous that I would no longer be the only man in her life.” He fixed Emma and Killian with a bashful stare. “But seeing her today, so obviously happy and in love...I am truly thankful. Thankful that she had found what I—we—hoped for. Someone who truly cherishes her as much as we do.” David glanced at his wife, who was also near tears again. David smiled and raised his glass. “To Emma and Killian. I wish you a long and happy life together.”

Everyone else raised their glasses and clinked them together. Killian nodded gratefully at his father in law before taking a sip.

“So what's good in this place?” Will said, breaking the sentimental moment.

That took them into lunch orders and small talk, most of which consisted of embarrassing stories. Through all of it, Killian kept a hold of Emma's hand under the table, thumb lightly brushing her knuckles. He could feel the ring on her finger, reminding him that this truly was real; she was his wife. It felt different and yet...the same. She was still his Swan, still far too good for him, but seemed to want him anyway. He prayed he never took that for granted.

“You okay?” Emma whispered, as Will was telling a story about bellhopping at The Crocodile.

“I am far better than okay, love,” he whispered back. “How are you holding up?”

She fidgeted. “To be honest, I kinda have to pee.” Killian laughed; she'd already had three glasses of champagne. Her green eyes were shining with intoxication.

“Would you like me to escort you?”

“Is that a thing husbands do?” she teased, fingers drumming on his thigh.

“Perhaps. Or I just don't want to allow my gorgeous wife out of my sight.” He wondered if he would ever get used to how that word sounded on his lips.

“Come on.”

Killian excused them and guided Emma toward the ladies' room. It was an old fashioned one that had a little sitting area outside it; the ladies loo had been tacked on after they began to allow women into the space. There were many clubs in London that still did not. Killian sat on a small loveseat and waited for Emma to return; he spun the new ring around his finger, still not _quite_ believing it. He and Emma had known each other such a short time and yet, he couldn't imagine any other outcome.

His only regret was that his mother and Liam were not here to see him happy.

“Killian?”

He looked up; Emma stared at him curiously. “Better now?”

“Yeah.” She sat next to him, taking his hand. “You looked sad.”

He swallowed. He didn't want to ruin their day. “I was just thinking.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He almost didn't. But the words poured out him against his will. “I was thinking about Liam. And my mother. And how sorry I am that they missed this.”

Emma laid her head on his shoulder. “Do you think they would have liked me?”

Killian chuckled. “They would have loved you, Swan. I've no doubt about that.”

“I wish I could have met them too.”

Killian let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her. She fell into his arms willingly. “I love you, Emma. So bloody much.”

“I love you too.” She held him silently, reminding him that she was his safe harbor. And now she always would be. “Ready to go back?”

“Aye. They probably think you fell in,” he joked, getting her to smile. When they returned they were all smiles again, the momentary sadness forgotten. Lunch arrived and they ate; Killian was suddenly starving. He'd been too nervous to eat before the ceremony.

“Robin sends his best,” Will said as he devoured his shepherd's pie. “Wished he could have been here.”

“We'll see him soon,” Killian said. “Won't we, love?”

“I was hoping to stop in New York on our way,” she said. “I just want to collect a few things.”

“Of course we will,” he replied, rubbing her back. “You can show me some sights.”

“We'd love to host you for a few days,” Mary Margaret said.

“Our esteemed friend Senator Collins has finally gotten Emma off the no fly list, so you should have no trouble entering the country,” David added. “Just make sure Killian applies for a green card as soon as you get back to Hawaii.”

“We can do that. We need to start looking for a place anyway,” Emma observed.

Mary Margaret shared a glance with her husband. “Um, about that.” She pulled an envelope out of her bag. “We thought this might be a nice first home for you,” she said, handing Emma the envelope. “It's not far from the beach.”

Emma accepted the envelope, opening it eagerly. Killian leaned over to look, his eyes widening. Emma's were the same. It was a condo, in one of the new highrises in Honolulu. An _expensive_ condo, completely paid for.

“It's unfurnished,” Mary Margaret was saying. “We got to it before they really did any decorating, so you can make it your own. We hope you like it.”

“Mom, this is...wow.” She looked at her parents. “Thank you so much.” She got up and ran over to hug them. Killian was still a little stunned—it was an enormous gift—but he followed her. David shook his hand, but Mary Margaret pushed his hand away and hugged him tight.

“Welcome to the family,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” Killian whispered back. He sniffled once discreetly, then let go, appearing as if nothing were amiss. Emma was already showing the pictures to Elsa, happiness shining in her face.

“Well, it may not be a bloody condo,” Will said, standing by Killian's shoulder. “But it's the thought that counts, innit?”

“What are you talking about, Will?”

He handed Killian a box. “Me an' Elsa got this for ya. Maybe ya can display it in that fancy new place.” Killian tore open the wrapping, carefully lifting the lid on the wooden box. Inside was a crystal vase in the shape of a swan. Etched in the bottom was an inscription. _To Emma and Killian, Swans mate for life. Love, Elsa and Will, 2015._ “That bit about the swans was my idea,” Will said proudly.

“You're _insane_ , you know that, right?”

Will was about to retort when Emma and Elsa returned. “You gave it to him without me!” Elsa cried.

“Gave what?” Emma asked.

Killian handed her the crystal swan. “Our wedding present?”

Emma examined it closely, smiling when she read the inscription. “Well, it's not wrong,” she said at last. “I hope you're ready for that.”

“Love, I'm ready for anything.”

“Good, because I think my mother wants us to dance.”

“Dance?” As far as he could tell, there was no music. Then he heard the soft strains of...was it Mozart? Or Beethoven? He always got them confused. He looked up and someone (presumably the staff) brought in a small stereo; it sat on one of the side tables.

“Everyone should dance on their wedding day,” Mary Margaret declared, smiling.

Killian shared a look with Emma, a grin on his lips. “Shall we then?”

She took his hand. “I would love to.”

They moved out into the middle of the room, which had been cleared of tables and chairs, with Killian gently taking her into his arms. It started very proper, hands entwined, the other resting on hips and shoulders, as they swayed to the music. Killian could not wipe the smile off his face; Emma was the same.

“Hello there, Mrs. Jones,” he murmured, pulling her just a hair closer.

“You really like saying that, don't you?”

“Is there something _wrong_ with that?”

Emma shook her head. “What if I wasn't changing my name?”

Killian's eyes went wide. They hadn't _actually_ talked about that; it was insane to presume...

“Hey, babe, calm down,” Emma whispered, squeezing his shoulder. “Of _course_ it's Mrs. Jones. I might hyphenate for work, but I will _always_ be Mrs. Jones, okay?”

Killian exhaled. “It's bad form to torment a man during his wedding dance, love.”

Emma stepped closer as they danced, brushing her lips across his cheek. “Sorry. I was only teasing.”

“I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me.” He smirked and moved to spin her, her green eyes sparkling when she whirled back into his arms.

“I'm sure I can. Perhaps sooner than you think.” It was her turn to smirk.

Killian cocked a brow at her. “Swan? Do I detect some devious plan?”

She gave up all pretense of being proper, wrapping her arms around his neck. Killian's went to her hips and around her waist, careful to not antagonize her father. “There might be a surprise for you when we get back.”

“Oh really? What sort of surprise?”

“Well, it _is_ our wedding night, you know.”

Killian's fingers twitched, imagining what she might look like under the beautiful dress. Her lovely pale skin and soft curves, begging for his touch. “How long do you think we have to stay here?” he whispered. Christ, he couldn't even kiss her the way he wanted to, not with their family and friends there. There were something best left to the bedroom. Or whatever other room they found themselves in... _alone._

“Too long,” she replied. She moved to press a brief kiss to his lips. “Later.”

“Aye.” They held each other for a few more moments, just soaking each other in. They were _married_. They were happy. Everything was as it should be.

“May I cut in?” David asked gently. Killian stepped back and nodded. He kissed the back of Emma's hand, then handed her off to her father. He watched them for a moment; David looked a bit teary again.

“He'll get used to it,” Mary Margaret said, looping her arm through Killian's. “Eventually.”

Killian gave her a forced chuckle. “This wasn't our intention,” he said quietly. “For everything to be so...fast.”

“I know.” She smiled. “Fast is relative, you know. I knew David was the one by end of our first date.”

“You did?”

“I did.” She lowered her voice. “It might have taken him longer, but don't tell him I said that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“My point is...when you know...you _know_. I see the way you two look at each other. I may not have at first, but that was _my_ fault. But I do see it. She's happier than I've ever seen her and that's mostly because of you, Killian.”

“She is extraordinary,” he said, eyes drifting back to her. She was laughing at something David said; it lit up her face.

“Yes, she is. Far more than I gave her credit for. Something else I'll have to live with.”

Killian didn't know what to say to that. His relationship with his mother had been relatively good, all things considered. As a single mother, he didn't see her as much as he wanted, but she was always loving. He missed her every day.

Beside him, Mary Margaret sniffed. “Just...don't be strangers, okay? When you get back to Hawaii.”

Killian covered her arm with his hand. “I'm sure we'll visit often. And you and David are welcome...any time.”

“Just call first?” Mary Margaret said mischievously.

“If it's not too much trouble,” he replied, looking away. The memory of them all showing up at their door a few days ago was still fresh.

She just smiled. “Let me take a few pictures then you can steal her back.” She got out her phone and snapped pictures of Emma and David dancing; Killian caught a glimpse of the album over the petite woman's shoulder. It seemed she'd been taking pictures all day.

“She's been doin' tha all bloody day,” Will said, taking Mary Margaret's place. “Surprised we're not all blind!”

“Will!” Elsa hissed. “Be nice.”

“Seriously, ya didn't notice all the flashes? Wrapped up in yer bride, I reckon.”

“As a matter of fact, I was. She's gorgeous, isn't she?”

“I always thought she'd be a beautiful bride,” Elsa said, following Killian's eyes. “Not that she'd ever talk about that kind of stuff.”

The song changed again and Killian excused himself. He snagged back his wife—bloody hell, it was still a strange, but happy, thought—for another dance. He didn't want to let her out of his arms.

To his mind it too far too long to get away; their loved ones sending them off in yet another limo (this one already had the privacy screen up). Thank goodness there was no bloody rice thrown or anything like that. Alone at last, they merely stared at each other for a long moment as the car pulled into traffic. Emma burst into giggles, her face smiling and joyful, and he joined her, pulling her into his arms.

“I thought we'd never get rid of them,” Emma said, calming a little, her head resting on his shoulder. She smoothed her hands over her skirt, then reached for his free one, their rings bumping together.

“I'm sure they meant well, my love.” Honestly, the day had far more pomp and circumstance than he could have ever expected, given how it had come to pass. And it _was_ a occasion meant to be shared by family.

“I'm grateful, and I'm glad they came, but all I needed was you.”

Killian kissed the top of her head. “Well, we did require some witnesses.”

“I know.” She raised their hands, hers resting on his, their rings side by side. “We got married.”

“Aye, we did. How does it feel?”

Emma raised her head, green eyes shining. “Good. _Really_ good. How about you?”

“There is no place I would rather be, than at your side, Emma.”

She smiled—it seemed neither of them could _stop_ smiling—and cupped his cheek. Her thumb brushed his scruff as he drew him in for a kiss. Soft at first, light almost teasing brushes of her lips over his. He sighed, his hand sliding up to her neck, fingers curling into the loosening curls. Emma responded in kind, her hands sliding under his jacket, lips pressing harder.

“Killian,” she breathed. He growled low in his throat, the pent up desire they'd squashed all day rising like an oncoming storm. He simultaneously pulled her closer and plucked the pins from her hair, allowing the gold tresses to tumble down her back. He much preferred it that way; he loved the way it felt between his fingers, the way she moaned if he tugged on it.

It didn't take long before her skirt was pushed up and she straddled his lap. His hands were already under it, gently massaging her thighs, creeping closer and closer to her heat.

Emma clung to his neck, mouth fused to his, tongue stroking his in a way that sent jolts of want right to his cock. Her hips jerked when he finally reached her soaking knickers, rubbing her through the fabric. “Oh god,” she hissed, grinding herself down wantonly. It felt like they hadn't been together in days, rather than hours. “Oh god.”

“Bloody hell, Swan.” He was still in his suit; it felt like he was burning up, every sound she made driving him insane.

“I don't want to wait,” she said, nibbling on his ear. “I want you right now.”

Killian had no idea how much longer it would take them to weave through London traffic, but he wasn't sure he cared at the moment. All of his instincts were screaming at him to take her, to give her what she wanted so badly.

“Budge up,” he muttered, hands pulling away from her core and fumbling with his pants. She couldn't help him, there was too much fabric in the way. Emma lifted her hips to give him space, while she loosened and yanked off his tie. A few buttons undone on his shirt and her lips were back on his skin, making him groan. His cock throbbed and twitched, so desperate was he to be inside her.

As soon as he was free, Killian's nimble fingers returned to her, pulling her knickers aside roughly. Emma mewled in pleasure, her wetness sliding over the head of his cock. “Oh yes, yes, _yes_ ,” she breathed, almost like a chant, impaling herself on him. She was so wet, so fucking _turned on_ , that he slid deep, as deep as he could from this angle, their moans filling the limo.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Killian cursed, his hips rolling up. He kissed her hard, one hand in her hair. “Ride me, Swan. Let me feel it.”

She nodded furiously, body already moving, hips almost  _slamming_ into his, rolling and grinding, getting every drop of pleasure she could. The limo bumped under them, but neither paid attention, lost in a haze of lust and need. Killian nibbled and sucked on her neck, sure to leave a bruise.

“That's it, love, just like that,” he whispered. “Feels so fucking good.”

Emma bit her lip hard, forehead pressed to his. “I need...” she whined. “So close.  _Please.”_

Killian nodded and kissed her again. He swallowed her moans and cries, his fingers finding her clit. He pressed hard, deep, rough circles, willing her to come apart in his arms. Her nails dug into his skin as she trembled, walls fluttering madly around him, falling over the edge. Killian would never tire of the sight; she was stunning in the throes of her passion. Her release triggered his, his cry of ecstasy muffled when he buried his head in her neck.

Emma slumped against him, her breathing ragged in his ear. Their hearts pounded almost in tandem; Killian could feel it through the layers of clothes. He recovered enough to rub her back, knowing how that soothed her. Emma hummed appreciatively, lips brushing his neck as she rested. It had to be a bit uncomfortable for her wedged into his lap, but she made no complaint, content to stay where she was until the limo pulled to a stop in front of the building they had been calling home.

Gently, Killian rearranged her knickers and dress, smoothing his hands through her hair. She gave him a lazy sated smile then climbed off his lap, allowing him to fix his own clothes. He opened the door for her, hoping their driver was wise enough to remain in the driver's seat. There was no sign of him, thank god. Killian scrambled out himself, then tapped on the window to let the drive know they had disembarked.

“I think we forgot your tie,” Emma said, looking apologetic.

“Bloody thing was a nuisance,” he said, giving her a wink. What difference did one tie make when he got to make love to the most amazing woman he'd ever met? His _wife_ now. It was more than a fair trade if you asked him. Killian took her arm and led them up the stairs to the flat. Not exactly the place he planned on spending his wedding night, but it would do. They were leaving late the next day, wanting to get home as soon as possible.

“Well, here we are,” Emma said, pausing in front of the door.

“Indeed.” Killian fished out his key and opened the door, snatching Emma's arm before she could step through. “Ah, ah, darling. I want to do at least _one_ thing the traditional way.” Before she could quiz him, he scooped her up, her surprised yelp music to his ears. Killian grinned, kissing her temple. He carried her over the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him.

Emma giggled. “I can't believe you did that!”

“What? Am I not allowed to indulge in a tradition with my beautiful bride?”

“You've been thinking about that for a while, haven't you?”

He put her down gently. “Longer than you would imagine, love.”

Emma's face softened, and she stepped into the circle of his arms. “Me too.” She kissed him sweetly, thumbs stroking his cheeks. “I love you, Killian.”

“And I love you, Emma.” He stole another kiss, then reached for Emma's phone. She'd left it behind since she didn't need it for the ceremony. “Care to dance?”

“Yes.”

Killian scrolled through her music, coming across something he didn't expect. A playlist with his name on it. “What's this?” he asked, holding it up for her.

Emma blushed. “Oh. It's nothing. Just something I had while you were...”  _Gone._

“May I?”

She was wary for a a few seconds, but nodded. Surely, she didn't think he would  _mock_ her? He was merely curious. “Swan, if you want to keep it private...”

“No, it's okay. I think it's...appropriate, don't you?”

He started the first song, “Never Let Me Go” by Florence + the Machine. “It's an eclectic mix you have there,” he said quietly, setting the phone aside and taking her hand.

“I guess I missed you a lot,” she replied, arms wrapping around his neck. She sighed as he pulled her flush against him, swaying to the beat.

“I missed you too.” He kissed her brow, hands tightening where he held her. He never wanted to repeat that experience again, almost losing her. Now, if they were lucky, the only thing that could part them was death. A long, _long_ time from now. He wanted to have a life with her, laughter, tears, driving each other insane, the occasional row. One day, football practice and school for their kids.

“Killian?”

“Hmmm?”

“Not zoning out on me, are ya?”

“Now why would I do that, Swan? I've got perfection in my arms.”

“I was being serious.”

“So was I.”

“Well, what _were_ you thinking about then?”

He smiled and spun her. “I was thinking about how much we have to look forward to. We can have any life we want now.”

“Starting with that insane condo my parents gave us?”

In all the excitement, he'd nearly forgotten about that. “That was an extraordinary gift.”

“The Nolans don't really do things halfway, in case you hadn't noticed,” she chuckled, moving to slip off his suit jacket.

“Oh, I noticed, Swan.” Killian rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, then cradled Emma's face in his hands. “We are proof enough of that.”

“Not really what I expected when I left home. Shows what I know, right?”

“What? You didn't expect to cross paths with a dashing stranger intent on sweeping you off your feet?”

“I didn't expect to find the love of my life,” she said, her expression serious. “But I'm glad I did.”

“Emma...” He didn't know what else to say; falling in love with her was both the scariest thing he'd ever done and the easiest. She was _home_ after being without one for so many years.

“I know.” She kissed him, and he felt it. Felt how much she loved him, like a surge all the way to his toes. “You still taste like that champagne.”

“Did you not like it?”

“I did. A bit sweeter than I usually go for.”

He cocked a brow at her. “I know of far sweeter tastes,” he murmured, twisting some of her hair between his fingers.

Emma shivered. “Are trying to seduce me, Mr. Jones?”

“Always, Mrs. Jones.” He didn't think there would ever be a time when he would have his fill of her. He brushed some hair back from her face, tipping her head back to kiss her. It didn't take long for the kiss to turn hungry as he wondered again just what she was wearing under that dress.

Emma surprised him by crooking her finger in his belt loop and dragging him toward the bedroom. He followed willingly, trying to pull her hair aside to reach the zipper on the dress. She was back in his arms in a flash, working the buttons on his shirt. She got his shirt off while he was still fumbling with the bloody zipper.

“Having a problem?” she asked with a smirk.

“Hold still,” he ordered. “I don't want to ruin this pretty dress.”

“You already had me in it,” she pointed out.

“Because _someone_ was a bloody minx,” he growled. “Who just _had_ to be fucked.”

Emma licked her lips, not looking the least bit apologetic. “You were damn sexy in that suit. And I didn't hear you complain.”

“Love, I don't think I would ever turn down a chance to be with you.” The zipper finally skimmed down her back and he was a bit stunned that it didn't expose as much skin as he expected. But what it did reveal was almost better. “Swan...”

“You can see it better once you get the dress off, you know.” Killian saw her bright but slightly nervous smile, as if he would think she were anything other than perfect. He tugged gently on the fabric; her arms slipped free, allowing the material to pool at her feet. All that remained was a corset made of white satin and lace with matching knickers. Her long lean legs were accentuated even more by her shoes now that she was bare.

“Bloody hell, love,” he breathed, pants growing uncomfortably tight again. “All this for me?”

She nodded. “I had another one...you know, for after the ball.”

One he never got to see because he'd been carted away in cuffs. “You're stunning, Emma.” Killian reached out, his hands sliding over the bare skin of her shoulders, down to the swells of her breasts. “Turn around for me?”

She blushed and did so, stepping out of the discarded dress. She even put a little extra wiggle into her hips, which just made him groan. Christ, she was beautiful. And alluring and sexy and _hot_.

Killian stepped up behind her, arms sliding loosely around her waist. He peppered her shoulder and neck with kisses, smiling against her skin when she whimpered softly. She covered his hands with hers, not so subtly trying to get him to _touch_.

“Want something, love?”

“You.”

“I'm right here. Not going anywhere.” He teased the skin of her stomach just between the corset and her knickers. “But you dressed up for me. I want to enjoy it.” Fingers eased into the waistband of her knickers and she squirmed against him, her ass rubbing into his still clothed crotch. He hissed at the contact, giving her a gentle thrust in retaliation. “We've got all night, lass.” His hand moved lower, fingertips brushing her bare mound. Emma whimpered again, reaching back blindly to hold on to him.

“Killian, please.”

He turned her head, capturing her lips in a sloppy kiss. He slid a finger through her slit; she was already slick, hips rolling into his touch. She sighed into his mouth, hand sliding into his hair. He teased her until she was trembling, almost mindless in her need. Killian pulled his hand away before she fell, earning a whine of protest.

“Damn you,” she cursed, biting her lip.

“Lick,” he demanded, holding his damp fingers to her lips.

Defiance flickered in her eyes, but she did as he asked, tongue darting out to lick her juices from his fingers. She moaned softly; it was a bit unfair since he knew all the things that made her desperate for him. He looked forward to her turning the tables on him at some point. But for now, he got to play.

To that end, he spun her back to face him, kissing her deeply. He got a hint of her sweetness in her kiss, but it wasn't nearly enough. Killian drew her hands to his fly and she caught on quickly, still kissing him as she deftly unfastened his pants and pushed them down his hips. She palmed him through the material of his boxers; Killian bucked into her touch. He'd just had her in the limo, but he needed her again, needed to feel her wrapped around him, squeezing him for dear life.

He managed to toe off his shoes and socks, ditching the pants too. “Mind taking care of that for me, love?” he asked, looking down at where she was stroking him.

“Like this?” Her hand slid under the waistband and pulled him free, applying the short firm strokes she _knew_ made him crazy.

His eyes almost rolled back in his head. “Bloody hell that's good.”

“I know what you like better,” she said, licking a path down his sternum, following the trail of hair that led to where he was aching for her. Emma dropped to her knees, tugging the boxers the rest of the way down his legs. He barely had time to breathe before her mouth was on him, licking and sucking along the length of him. She kneaded his balls in her hand; Killian let out a long torturous moan. She held him steady, left hand curling over his hip.

“Fuck.” He unashamedly rocked into her touch, her warm wet mouth almost making him forget his own name. He couldn't get over how incredible she looked kneeling before him, dressed in a virginal white corset, lips around his cock. She sucked lightly on the head, licking precum from the slit. Killian's hands dove into her hair, more to stay upright than to guide her. She knew exactly what he liked; it was maddening, just enough to keep him on edge. When he tried to fuck her mouth she would pull away, leaving him wanting. “Emma!”

She hummed around him, head bobbing, until she released him, licking her lips. “Yes?”

“Get up here. _Now._ ”

He caught her shiver as she rose, slightly wobbly on those heels. He didn't want her to take them off though. He wanted to fuck her with them on. Killian hauled her against him, hands sliding under her ass and thighs. Emma got the hint instantly, wrapping her long legs around his waist. He carried her the final few steps to the bed, kneeling onto it heavily. They tumbled down haphazardly, Emma giggling happily.

Killian covered her with his body, lips on her skin. The giggles melted into moans as Killian ground his cock into her wet crotch, her legs spreading automatically for him. He sucked another mark into her skin, along the curve of her breast. Emma arched and groaned, nonsense tumbling from her lips. His hands roamed her body, the satin and lace a nice contrast from her smooth warm skin. He loved her nude, but there was something about the corset that made him burn. He squeezed her ass; Emma cursed.

“Tell me what you want, Emma.”

Her pupils were completely blown when her eyes locked with his. “I want you to _fuck_ me.”

“How?”

“However you want! Just get inside me. Please.”

“What if I wanted to taste you first?”

“Yes! Yes! Just stop teasing!”

“So impatient, sweetheart,” he admonished, kissing neck. He scooted down the bed, fingers curling into the waistband of her knickers and tugging them down her legs. Then he spread her wide, exposing her pink wet cunt to his greedy gaze. He stroked his thumbs over it, parting her folds. She dripped onto the sheet; he had to fight the urge to take her right then and there. Instead, he lowered his head between her thighs and gave a nice long lick.

Emma mewled and fisted the sheet, hips rising off the bed. Killian used one hand to hold her down, palm flat on her stomach. He dove in like a man starved, lapping at her, the sweet tangy flavor bursting on his tongue. He could taste her for hours, listen to the sounds she made. He fucked her with his tongue, teasing her entrance, finger rubbing her clit. She tried to buck and squirm, but he held her fast, enjoying his treat. He didn't let her come, driving her to the edge repeatedly until she was begging.

“ _Please!”_ she half sobbed, trembling and shaking.

Killian let her go, giving her a moment to calm down. He knew how desperate she was for release, but he didn't want to overwhelm her. He sat up on his knees, pulling her down to rest on his thighs. “You've been so good, my love,” he whispered, rubbing soothing circles into the inside of her thighs. “So good. Can you be good for a little while longer?” Emma looked up at him and nodded. “There's my girl.” He lowered her to the bed again and eased himself between her legs. He was hard as a rock and ached so much it hurt, but Emma was his priority.

He locked eyes with her, bracing one hand next to her head. She sucked in a breath when he rubbed the tip of his cock over her folds, teasing them both. He eased in slowly, inch by inch, letting her stretch snuggly around him. Killian shuddered; her warm tight channel almost undoing him completely. But fuck, he wanted this to last.

“Bloody hell, Swan,” he hissed, head dropping to her shoulder.

“ _Move,”_ she pleaded. “Fuck.”

He fumbled for her hands, bracing them above her head, her wrists caught. Emma wrapped her legs around his waist again, holding him close to her. He tried to go slow, he really did, but Emma didn't want slow. Her hips rose to meet his every time he withdrew, hips  _snapping_ together in a quick but satisfying rhythm.

“Yes!” she cried, back arching under him. “Oh fuck yes.”

“You like this?” he growled, hovering above her. “You like when I fuck you like this, Swan?”

“Oh god.”

“ _Answer me.”_

“ _Yes!”_ she screamed as she shattered, hips stuttering madly into his. He was helpless, his own release unstoppable as her fluttering walls milked him dry. He couldn't _breathe_ , couldn't _think_. All he could do was collapse, every nerve in his body buzzing from his high.

He laid there longer than he should have; Emma made a soft groan of relief when he finally rolled off her. He kissed her damp brow in apology and got her cleaned up. She dozed a little as he unhooked the corset and pulled it from her body along with those heels. Killian organized a few other things as she slept before crawling in beside her. The stress and excitement of the day were getting to him, his lids were getting heavy. Emma rolled, curling her body into his. He welcomed her happily, tucking her into his side.

He flipped off the light, plunging them into darkness. In a few hours they would be going home.

* * *

She felt bad about sneaking out. Especially the day after their wedding. Which had been amazing, despite the circumstances. Emma smiled down at the silver band on her finger, recalling the moment Killian had put it there. Some people would see that as the end of their whirlwind romance, but Emma knew better. This was only the beginning.

Her excursion in the early morning quiet was something she wanted to do alone.

A call to Archie was all it took to find the information she was looking for. It surprised her how close their current lodgings was to the cemetery. Had Killian been here? She didn't know. He'd only mentioned his family once since she arrived and that was at their little reception the day before. Emma had been thinking about doing this long before; his sadness over them not being there to see him happy just affirmed her resolve.

She just wanted to pay her respects and then they could go home.

The wrought iron fence loomed in front of her; she pushed the gate open, wincing when it squeaked. It was only about eight o'clock on a Sunday morning; the streets were just coming to life. Emma looked around, biting her lip, not quite sure where to go. It seemed to be a newer cemetery; there were very few old stones. She wasn't sure if that was good or not. There was nothing for it but to scan the stones as she walked down the path in the middle, hoping the name Jones would jump out at her.

It took her nearly twenty minutes, but she found them. Two stones, side by side. Mother and son. Emma knelt down, tracing the names with her finger. Killian's mother had been young, far too young. Emma didn't even know what she looked like. She always imagined Liam as a older version of Killian, just with curly hair. And that was solely based on what Killian had shared with her. Did he have some pictures of them? Maybe she'd ask when they got home.

Emma sighed sadly, reaching behind her for the small bouquet of flowers. She split them and put each bunch in front of the stones for the mother and brother in law she would never know.

“I'll look after him,” she said quietly. “I promise.”

A tear slipped down her cheek and Emma brushed it away. There wasn't anything more she could do. Except keep her promise.

She spared one final glance at the gray stones and stood up. She wanted to get back before Killian woke up. They still had some packing to do before their flight. On her way back to the flat, she grabbed some scones (which she had become rather fond of) for their breakfast.

The scent of coffee already filled the small flat when she stepped back through the door. “Someone was up early this morning,” Killian said, leaning over the counter in his boxers.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, but I did wonder where my wife was when I woke up.”

Emma set the scones aside and wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Just getting breakfast,” she said, kissing between his shoulder blades. “Sorry if I worried you.”

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I just missed you, Swan.”

Emma held him tighter, her cheek pressed to his back. “I missed you too.”

“So what delectables did you bring us?”

“Scones actually. I thought we could munch and pack.”

“Hmm, I might have to learn to makes these, since you've become so fond of them,” he said, snatching the sack.

“You'd do that?”

“Emma, haven't you learned that there's _nothing_ I wouldn't do for you?”

Emma swatted his shoulder. “I don't expect you to wait on me hand and foot, Killian.”

“Nor I you, darling. But I can shower you tokens of affection whenever the fancy strikes.” To her surprise, he spun around and picked her up, sitting her on the counter top. Emma squealed, laughing, amused by his determined expression.

“You call this a token of affection?”

Killian stepped between her spread legs, hands sliding up her sides. “I was just getting to that,” he said indigently. The counter put them eye level; it stuck her again just how _blue_ his eyes were, especially when he looked at her like _that._ She met him halfway when he kissed her, long and slow, warmth spreading over her.

Their morning activities (once in the kitchen and again in the shower) almost made them late for their flight, since they still needed to pack and get through security at Heathrow. Emma didn't regret it though. It was still very new and exciting, this marriage thing. Of course, they were _always_ like that, so that excuse held no water.

“Fancy joining the mile high club?” Killian whispered as they settled into their seats on the plane.

Emma was _just_ sore enough that the idea wasn't as appealing as it should have been. “Raincheck?” she asked, buckling her seatbeat. “Might be easier on the next leg.” Especially if they took the Nolan private plane to LA.

Killian chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Don't think I won't hold you to that, Swan.”

“I'd despair if you didn't.”

It was a long flight, longer than she remembered. Although, that may have been because she was now flying commercial instead of hitching a ride with the government. Her parents were seated a few rows down alongside Elsa and Will; with the rushed departure they'd had to take what they could get. Emma didn't mind though. She leaned her head on Killian's shoulder and slept, their hands entwined.

The real test would be when they landed.

At first it started normally. They disembarked, toting their carry on luggage. Emma had all their paperwork tucked into her bag (she'd checked it _five_ times before they left London, just to be safe), ready to present when they went through customs. Her parents went through first (easy), then Elsa and Will (Will got into an argument about whether or not he had to declare his new suit since it had been a gift). Once it was their turn, Emma stepped right up to the customs agent and handed her their papers. While the agent perused that, she listed all the things she needed to declare (her wedding dress was in storage in London along with several other things; Archie would be sending all that along later) and held her breath. Killian squeezed her had reassuringly and Emma was grateful. She was certain this would work; if they could get into New York, getting home would be a snap. The woman took so long Emma started to fidget. Did the language get turned into Klingon when she wasn't looking?

“May I have your passports, please?” the woman said at last.

Emma handed them over; they would need to get Killian a new one as soon as he had his green card. But the customs agent declared everything to be in order, stamped their passports and sent them on their way.

Emma didn't celebrate until they were out of earshot. “We did it!” she cried.

Killian kissed her soundly, right there in the middle of the concourse. “I love you.”

“Right back at ya, babe,” she replied, taking his hand. “Come on. Let's go find the others.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

Her hand was clasped tightly in his as they wandered through the crowd. It had taken some ingenuity to get out of her parents' penthouse that morning (bloody paparazzi), but Emma was determined they get out. They were only going to be in New York for a couple of days as they needed to get back to Oahu. The semester had started and Killian had quite a lot to do before he could graduate in December.

Not to mention moving into their new place, furnishing it, getting Emma's company up and running.

It was a lot and Killian didn't blame Emma a bit for wanting a few days to themselves first.

“You know,” he said, dodging another couple, “it doesn't look this...bright on the telly.”

Emma laughed. “Maybe neon doesn't show up well on TV.” They were in Times Square, just walking like any other tourists. They'd spent the morning and afternoon in Central Park; they'd even taken a carriage ride. Emma told stories about when she was child, showing him so much of the world she grew up in. It was a whole new side to her and he fell just a little more in love with her.

“I can't believe people stand out here for _hours_ in the cold waiting for some bloody ball to drop,” he replied, looking up at where said ball usually was. “What's the appeal?”

“Don't you have fireworks or something in London?”

“Aye, but people don't queue up for eighteen hours to watch them.”

“Well, there's entertainment and stuff,” Emma pointed out. “The stage is usually over there, I think.”

“You think? You've never actually been, have you, Swan?”

Emma shook her head. “No. Mom always thought it was too dangerous. Then when I was older, Elsa wasn't into crowds so we just hung out in my room with champagne.”

“She seems to be getting over that a bit, if you don't mind me saying.”

Emma smiled. “Yeah. I'm really happy for her.”

But Killian caught the flicker of sadness in her eyes. “What, love?”

They ducked into one of the shops. “I'm just going to miss her. Until recently, she's only been fifteen minutes away. When we get home it's going to be six thousand miles. It's just gonna take some getting used to.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“Have you talked to Will?”

Killian shook his head. “I'm not sure  _they_ have talked about it, Swan. It's a big decision.”

“We didn't have any deep conversations about it either.”

Killian let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Our circumstances kind of fell into our laps, love. We were already living together, more or less.”

Emma blushed. “That just kinda happened, huh?”

“I must admit that I liked waking up with you in my bed. I love seeing you first thing in the morning.”

“With bed head and morning breath? Guess it's a good thing you love me,” she quipped.

“I adore you, Swan. As you well know.” He kissed her temple, earning them a few envious glances. He did enjoy flaunting their happiness, the pure joy they found in one another. If their friends were as happy as they were, then he was certain everything would fall into place. And if it didn't, they would visit. Often.

He'd do whatever it took to make her happy.

They left the shop with a few souvenirs, then headed over to the Empire State Building. Emma wanted to show him the view at night. It was taller than he'd imagined; the photographs and video he'd seen not really doing the stately old building justice. They entered the lobby with its wall to wall art deco style, pausing to take some pictures and look around. Emma wasn't that interested in the exhibits, but that was because she'd been there on a school trip years ago.

“Is that what they do here?” Killian asked. “Take school children on trips to old buildings and such?”

“Well, I guess it depends on where you live,” Emma said thoughtfully. “Didn't you have field trips as a kid?”

“I don't think we called them as _such_ and they weren't annual affairs.”

“You're totally going to be one of those 'involved' dads, aren't you?” Emma teased.

“You say that like its a bad thing, love,” he replied, wounded.

Emma stopped them in front of the elevator. “Hey, I didn't mean it like that.” She squeezed his hand. “It's really sweet. Just try not to embarrass the kid, huh?”

Killian grinned. “I guess that depends on if said child's mother is with me.”

“I think that could be arranged. I didn't have that as a kid.”

Killian couldn't imagine Mary Margaret  _not_ involved. “Why's that, Swan?”

“Private school,” she explained. “Small classes. We didn't really need it.”

“My mother was always working,” Killian said wistfully. “It was a rare occasion she got to come to one of our matches.” With Liam and Killian so far apart in age, they didn't play on the same team.

“I'm sure she wanted to be there, Killian.”

“I know she did.”

Emma threaded their fingers together. “I can't believe we're talking about this.”

“About being parents to our future children?” he said, laughing. “It was bound to come up sooner or later, love.”

“We just got married three days ago!”

“Aye, but we do spend a lot of time _practicing_.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“And who's fault is that?”

“Yours. Bloody irresistible siren, you are.”

“Takes two to tango, babe.”

“It most certainly does and you enjoy every minute of it.”

Emma's cheeks went pink. “We're hopeless.”

“I think I prefer it that way.”

Their banter got cut off when it was their turn to take the lift up to the observation deck. Even at this time of evening it was busy; many other people seemed to have the same idea they did. Emma leaned back against his chest in the crowded lift; he held her by the waist just because he could. Once out of the lift they got in the line; it was stuffy in the hallway, which surprised him. To be honest, it was rather warm and he was thankful to be in shorts and t-shirt.

The line moved slowly, far slower than he would have liked, but since he was spending that time with Emma he decided to be philosophical about it. They would get back to much more mundane things soon enough.

But he was looking forward to it. Getting settled, going from their intense summer to being an actual married couple, was going to be a challenge. A good one, but a challenge none the less. Then perhaps in a few years they could revisit their talk about children and such.

“What are you smiling about?” Emma asked.

Killian schooled his expression. “Don't know what you mean, Swan.”

“You had that stupid grin on your face.”

“I did not.”

“Did so. You looked really happy about something.”

“Well, I've been quite content lately, love.”

Emma held up their joined hands, showing off his wedding ring. “I know what you mean.”

“You too, huh?”

“I married a really cute guy, why shouldn't I be happy?”

“Cute?” he cried indignantly.

“What?”

“Using _that_ word,” he replied with mock hurt. “Seems rather inadequate, don't you think?”

“It's one of the few I can use in public,” she whispered in his ear.

“Ah,” he said knowingly. “In that case, you're forgiven.”

She started to retort, but it was their turn to head up to the observation deck. He tugged on her hand and led the way, following another couple. When they stepped outside, he was taken aback by how windy it was, but then again they were eighty six floors up. The deck was fairly crowded, but they found an unoccupied set of viewers. The lights of the city shown around them in all directions, blotting out all but the brightest stars in the sky.

“So what do you think?” Emma asked.

“It's impressive.”

“You miss the stars, don't you?”

He smiled at how well she could read him. “Aye. The sky is too dark.”

“I didn't really get that until I went to Hawaii. I mean, logically, I _know_ about light pollution and stuff, but knowing and understanding are two different things.”

He slipped his arm around her waist. “Still, there's something to be said for being up this high. There's a certain beauty to the city, I'll grant you that.”

“The World Trade Center used to be over there,” she said, pointing to their right. “It was weird coming up here and not seeing it, at least for a while.” She pointed out some more landmarks, playing tour guide as they walked the length of the deck. It was too dark to take pictures, but Killian knew he wasn't going to forget this anytime soon. And they would be back, surely.

Before they headed back down, Emma paused. “Let's take a picture of us.” She fiddled with her phone, trying to find a good angle, but her arm didn't seem to be long enough.

“Would you like me to do that?” one of the guards asked.

“If you don't mind,” Emma said, relieved. She handed him her phone and wrapped her arms around Killian. He followed her, their temples pressed together.

“Smile!” Killian was already grinning so hard his cheeks hurt, but he heeded the warning. The flash went off a few seconds later, then again two more times. When they got Emma's phone back, he was pleased to see the pictures, how happy they were.

“Mom will want to add these to that album she's having made,” Emma said, still smiling. “I'll send them to her later.”

“She was quite the shutterbug at the wedding,” Killian observed as they stepped down to the main floor.

“I think it was her way of coping since it was so small.”

“Do you wish it had been different?”

“No, I think it was pretty perfect as it was. At least it wasn't a shotgun wedding or anything.”

It took him a minute to figure out what that was. “I think your father would have killed me before we got to the Registrar's office,” he joked.

“I wouldn't have let him. I need you intact and _alive_.”

“But it was rather rushed, you must admit.”

“Yeah, but I think we both know it was just a matter of time,” she shot back with a wink.

“So confident, Swan. I like it.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, wishing he could kiss her properly.

“We'll be home soon.”

“Then I can have my wicked way with you.”

“And what if _I_ want to have my wicked way with _you?”_

Now that was intriguing. “Lead the way, Swan.”

It turned out that neither of them would be having any fun that night. When they arrived at the penthouse, they had an unexpected guest.

“Mom, Dad? What's going on? Why are you still up?” Emma asked. Then she stopped in her tracks. “Mrs. Gold?”

“Hello, Emma,” the tiny brunette said. She didn't look to be much older than Emma. Far younger than he expected the wife of that vile man to be. “You're Killian, yes?”

“Aye.”

“I don't understand,” Emma said. “Why are you here?” Killian could feel the tension in her; it radiated off her in waves. Surely there wasn't anything Gold could do to them now.

Mrs. Gold sighed. “I was waiting for you to return. I think I have something that can help.”

“Help us what?”

“Punish my husband for what he did to you and your boy...” Mrs. Gold's eyes flickered down to the silver bands. “Husband. Sorry, I didn't know. Congratulations.”

Emma's brow creased in consternation. “Um, thanks. Not to be rude but...”

“Why should we trust you?” Killian cut in, a bit more angry than he should have been. But right now, he didn't have any good experiences with anyone related to Gold.

“Emma, Killian, sit down,” Mary Margaret said, trying to diffuse the tension. “Just hear her out.”

“You already talked to her?” Emma shot back.

“She came to us,” David said firmly. “All we're asking is that you listen. Please.”

Emma looked at Killian; her eyes shared his skepticism. He knew Gold had to be taken down, but was this the way? Wasn't there some corporate espionage or something that could accomplish the same thing? And why would she betray her husband? Killian would never betray Emma, not for anything. There was a reason they didn't let spouses testify for defendants. Their relationship was too close, or should be.

Which led to the question of what Gold had done to her.

“Okay,” Emma said finally. “We'll listen.” They sat next to each other on the loveseat, hands clasped together. “What did he do to you?”

Mrs. Gold looked surprised. “What makes you think that?”

“You seem to be willing to betray him,” Killian said matter of factly. “Forgive us if that seems a tad suspicious.”

Mrs. Gold considered that, twisting a lock of her brown hair between her fingers. “Robert's been good to me,” she said slowly. “And I do love him.”

“But?” Emma prompted.

“Well, you know how he is. I've stayed out of his business dealings. I didn't _want_ to know. But when I saw what happened at your benefit, my heart went out to you. You must believe that.”

“But something changed,” Emma argued. “It's one thing to sympathize. That I get. But it's been weeks now. We managed to get home without your 'help.'” She used her sarcastic quote fingers. “So why now?”

Mrs. Gold looked a bit ashamed. “I didn't know at first. I swear to you I didn't know it was Robert. I didn't find out until recently.”

“How can you expect us to believe that?” Killian shot back. “You were there when the bloody authorities dragged me away.”

“Killian...” Mary Margaret began.

“No, I want to know,” Emma interjected.

Mrs. Gold looked down at the floor. “I've spent many years looking the other way,” the woman said slowly. “I think deep down I've always known what he was. I believed in the man he _could_ be. So yes, I saw. But I didn't want to believe that Robert...”

“And Neal,” Emma cut in.

“Yes, and Neal. I didn't want to believe they were capable of willfully ruining an innocent man's life. Robert does so much charity...”

“To make himself look good,” Emma said bitterly.

Mrs. Gold didn't bother denying it. “I overheard him and Neal,” she said finally. “After we returned. Neal was thanking him for...doing what he did. I was shocked. And appalled.”

“It must have been awful, Belle,” Mary Margaret said, coming over to put a hand on the other woman's shoulder. “I'm so sorry.”

Belle's smile flickered and died. “It was like everything I thought I knew had gone up in smoke. I wanted to do something, but I didn't know what.”

Killian looked at Emma. He saw Belle's distress; it didn't appear feigned. He couldn't imagine being duped that way. Emma nodded at him, squeezing his hand. “You're here now, Mrs. Gold,” Emma said carefully. “Thank you.”

“Belle, please.”

“Belle.”

Belle sniffed. “I...I know...things. Terrible things. Surely something would be helpful.”

“But you couldn't testify,” Emma pointed out. “You're his wife.”

“Records,” David said. “Papers. There has to be a trail. No one buys off that many public officials and doesn't leave a trail.”

“I don't know,” Belle said slowly. “Robert's paranoid.”

“A virus,” Killian said suddenly. “I have a mate back in Honolulu. Working on a computer virus that is untraceable and can copy files to download somewhere else. If you can upload it, then it should find anything there was to be found.”

“Would you do that?” Emma asked Belle. “If we could get that information to the authorities, then they could start an investigation.”

Belle looked even more distressed. He couldn't imagine. If she was a horrified as she claimed, how could she do anything else? But they were essentially asking her to spy on her husband. They would truly be heartless if they expected an answer immediately.

“Think about it, lass,” Killian said quietly. “No one will think less of you if you don't.”

Belle smiled gratefully. “I will. Thank you for listening.” Her blue eyes glanced at the clock. “I must go before I'm missed. I'll call,” she said to Mary Margaret. She took a steadying breath and stood. “We're going to see _Finding Neverland_ tomorrow night. In case you were curious.”

After she slipped out, Killian turned to Emma. “Why would she think we would want to know that?”

David smiled grimly. “Want to see Gold's face when he realizes you're back in the country?”

Killian thought about that. It did fill him with a vicarious thrill, knowing they'd thwarted the man who'd tried to tear them apart. “What do you think, love? Should we put our travel plans on hold and go see a show?”

“Can you spare the time?” she asked. “I know you need to get back.”

“I can send Teach an email. Reschedule our meeting. Shouldn't be a problem.”

She grinned. “Then I think we're going to a show.”

* * *

“Have you seen my socks, love?” Killian hollered.

Emma put down her brush. “Have you checked in the suitcase?”

“Aye, no luck.”

She frowned. “Maybe my dad has some you could borrow?”

He poked his head into the bathroom. “I'm not wearing your father's socks, Swan.”

“Why not?”

“I can acquire my own socks, thank you very much.”

Emma stood up, looking thoughtful. “Hey, what's going on?”

“Just trying to dress for a nice evening with my wife.”

She cocked her head at him. He might be able to read her, but she could read him too. “Talk to me, Killian.”

“You married an unemployed grad student,” he said softly.

“Not forever. You've got a job as soon as you graduate, remember? Until then, we're okay.” And they'd be okay in any case.

He stroked her cheek. “You know I don't care about the money, right?”

“Yeah, I know that. But we are married now. What's mine is yours and all that. I trust you.”

Killian smiled. “You are amazing, my love.”

“So are you.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. “After tonight, we're gonna go home and start living our life. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty excited about that.”

“I am too. Forgive my momentary doubt.”

Emma pulled him into a hug. “I know all this is hard to get used to. I've lived it and I'm still sometimes uncomfortable. But we'll forge our own way. Together.”

“Aye, together.” He kissed her again, deepening it slightly, leaving them both a little breathless. “We should hurry.”

“Yeah.” Reluctantly, she let him go and went back to her own dressing. She finished doing her hair then slipped on her favorite dress. The one good thing about being back in New York was having access to _all_ of her things. She didn't need to go shopping for a new dress every time they went out. She'd already tagged the things she wanted shipped to Oahu first, mostly summer things and dresses.

There was another box of things she was going to transport personally, but if they were lucky, Killian would get a glimpse of _that_ before they left. She was looking forward to it very much.

“Bloody hell, lass,” Killian breathed when she stepped out of the bathroom.

“You like it?” She spun around so he could get the full effect. The dress was dark green with an asymmetrical neckline, hugging her curves until it fell to her ankles. Including a slit that climbed almost all the way to her hip.

“Beautiful,” he assured her. “As always.”

“Hmm, you look good too.” It was his wedding suit, but he wore it very well. Enhanced in her opinion, by the lack of tie. They'd never replaced the one he'd lost in London.

“Shall we?”

She took his arm and headed for the elevator. Since the point of all this was for Gold to find out they were back, they didn't bother to duck the paparazzi. The constant flash bulbs and shouted pleas for a smile or a nod were normal for her, but not Killian. He followed her lead, studiously ignoring them until they got into the limo.

“You okay?” she asked as soon as the door closed.

“Vultures, aren't they?”

“Something like that. Those pictures should be on the front page by tomorrow.”

“Truly?”

She merely smiled. “You'll see.”

It wasn't a long drive to the theater; Killian helped her out when they arrived. She hadn't been to a show in a while; she'd forgotten how much chaos there could be. They weaved their way to the box office for their tickets. The show was sold out, but she'd called in a favor, getting them a pair of seats toward the front usually reserved for the owner.

She kept looking around, wondering if Gold and Belle had arrived yet. She didn't know if Neal was supposed to be there, but she secretly hoped so. She wanted to see his face. She wanted to throw her happiness back in his face after he tried so hard to destroy it. Petty perhaps, but she felt entitled all things considered.

“Swan?”

“Yeah?”

“Should we get to our seats?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“Looking for anyone?” he asked, a knowing grin on his face.

“That obvious?”

“Just a little, love.”

She laughed and it felt good. Sensing her mood and get her out of her own head was one of the things she loved best about him. “Let's enjoy the show.”

It was a good show. As soon as the lights went down, she snuggled into Killian, mildly frustrated by the immovable arm between them. He whispered a running commentary in her ear on the acting and the plot; since it was about J.M Barrie and _Peter Pan,_ he was uniquely qualified to comment. Plus she just liked the sound of his voice.

At the intermission, she headed for the ladies room.

“Emma!” a voice called. “Emma Nolan!”

She turned around and was greeted by Alexandra Herman, the Mayor's daughter. The blond looked pretty in a purple backless dress, her curls bouncing around her shoulders. Emma wasn't overly fond of her (she was an avid gossip) but since her parents had come to Emma's benefit she figured it didn't hurt to be nice.

“Alex! It's so good to see you!” Emma replied with a smile. “And it's Emma Jones now.”

“Jones?” Alex looked confused, then Emma held up her ring. “Oh my god! You got _married?!_ Who? When?”

“A few days ago actually. Just a small wedding in London.”

“That's so exciting! You must tell me everything.”

It was Emma's turn for the restroom. “I will. One second.” She used the facilities and washed her hands. If she told Alex about her marriage it was sure to be the talk of New York society by end of the week, but since they wouldn't be there, she didn't care. It served her very well for those people she hated to be envious of her.

After she finished in the rest room, she lingered outside for Alex. “So what happened?” Alex asked. “Last I heard you weren't out there on the dating circuit.”

“I wasn't,” Emma replied thoughtfully. “But things can change.”

“Swan?”

Emma smiled at the sound of his voice. “Hey, you.” She held her hand out and Killian took it. “We were just talking about you.”

“Were you now?”

“Yeah.” She turned to Alex. “Alex, I'd like you to meet my husband, Killian Jones. Killian, this is my friend Alex Herman, the Mayor's daughter.”

“Ah, yes. I met your parents. Delightful,” Killian said smoothly, holding his hand out to Alex. Emma thought for a second the poor girl would swoon; her lashes fluttered and her breathing got a bit shallow. Had Emma been like that meeting Killian for the first time?

Alex recovered and shook Killian's hand. “Where has Emma been hiding _you_ all this time?”

Was she _flirting?_ It was a struggle for Emma to maintain her smiling face. “We met on Emma's recent trip to Hawaii,” Killian said, winking at Emma. “Bit of a fairy tale, wouldn't you say, love?”

Emma raised a brow but nodded in agreement. “Yep, a fairy tale.”

“You don't sound American,” Alex said.

“Killian's originally from England. He's just finishing a master's degree at the University of Hawaii.”

“That sounds intriguing,” Alex replied, feigning interest. “What are you studying?”

“Marine biology,” Killian said proudly. “I've long been fascinated by the sea.”

“Has his own boat and everything,” Emma said. “We're headed there tomorrow actually.”

“You're not staying in New York?”

“No, I just started a non profit out there. Should keep us busy.” Emma could seen Alex cataloging all of these facts in her head, ready to regurgitate them at a moment's notice.

The lights signaling the end of intermission started to flash. “Well, I can't believe you beat me to the altar, Emma. But you seem really happy.”

She smiled, glancing at Killian. “I am. Really happy.” They said goodbyes and headed back to their seats. They got there just in time.

“Well, that was illuminating,” he purred in her ear as the curtain came up.

“Wasn't it?” Emma grinned at him mischievously. “Did it entice you to stay in the city?”

“Definitely _not._ I have all I want right here.” He kissed the apple of her cheek and curled his fingers through hers. Warmth flooded her; she could feel his pulse under her fingertips. The steady beat made her smile because it was _hers._

When the show ended, they applauded enthusiastically along with everyone else. She had really enjoyed it; it even made her tear up a bit. She didn't feel like she needed to hide her emotions, not anymore. Killian had seen her raw and exposed, happy and sated and everything in between. With him she was utterly safe.

As they followed the rest of the crowd out of the theater, she thought about what she was leaving behind. She loved New York. The thrum of millions of people all around her. Her family and friends, well her true friends. She wouldn't miss people like Alex who only thought about themselves. She was sure when word of her marriage broke there would be lots of false congratulations and even more snickering behind her back.

Let them. She was in love and happy and had an entire life to look forward to.

“Emma?”

A ripple of distaste shuddered down her spine. They were approaching the lobby. She was tempted to just keep walking but her desire of a little bit of payback had her glancing at Killian and turning around.

“Neal.” He looked slovenly in an ill fitting suit, his girlfriend Mulan on his arm.

Neal's eyes went huge. _“You.”_ He pointed at Killian. “How the _fuck_ are you here?” His outburst caused some people to point and stare.

“The same way as you, I expect,” Killian said.

“No, no. You got deported. My father...”

“Your father is an asshole,” Emma shot back. “Everyone knows it but is too scared to do anything about it. Turns out _your father_ isn't as powerful as you like to think.” She held up her hand with the silver band on it. “If you _ever_ come after me and mine again, you _will_ regret it. Got it?”

Neal stuttered and stared, but ultimately said nothing. Of course. She heard Belle calling through the crowd, but ignored it. If she saw Gold now, she might be tempted to punch him in the face. She nodded to Killian, who managed to look both smug and proud, and they moved toward the exit. It was probably wrong of her, but she definitely got some satisfaction from telling the moron off. His petty jealousy and sense of entitlement had tried to ruin her life.

The hell with him.

As soon as they got into the car, Killian captured her lips in a kiss. “You are bloody magnificent when you're riled, love.”

Emma grabbed onto the lapels of his jacket, holding him close. “No one messes with people I love,” she growled.

He kissed her again, hard. “Did you see his face? Arrogant bastard.”

“I don't want to think about him. Ever again. It's just us, okay? Just us.”

Killian nodded, pulling her close. This limo was smaller than the others they had found themselves in , so they actually had to restrain themselves. The desire that always seemed to hum just below the surface had to simply simmer. Emma slipped her hand under Killian's jacket, tugging on the tail of his shirt. She managed to expose a tiny patch of skin, running her fingers over it in small rhythmic circles.

“Bloody minx,” Killian hisses in her ear.

“You love it,” she whispered back. She guided his hand between her legs, exposed by the slit in her dress. Goosebumps rose where he touched her, the smoothness of her skin contrasted by the roughness of his palm.

“I do,” he replied, kissing her temple. “So bloody much.”

Emma willed the driver to go faster, wanting to banish the memory of their unpleasant—but cathartic—encounter with Neal. From now on it was Emma and Killian, living their life together, exactly as they chose.

She was kissing him as soon as they got to the elevator that led to the penthouse, unwilling to wait any longer. Her fingers wove through his hair, dragging his mouth to hers. Her heels put them on a level; he didn't need to stoop to kiss her senseless. He pulled her flush against him, trapping her between the hard planes of his body and the wall of the elevator. The security camera probably got an eyeful, but that only sent another jolt of desire down her spine.

“You might have to sleep on the plane, lass,” Killian muttered, lips smoothing along her jaw.

“I thought you wanted to _fuck_ me on the plane?” she asked, angling her head to give him better access.

“Oh I will. Then you can sleep.”

“No sleeping tonight?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

The chime went off and the doors opened. They tumbled out of the elevator and into the hallway. Emma snatched his hand and led him toward her room. Since it was on the other side of the penthouse from her parents, they could do anything they wanted. And Emma would be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to having him in _her_ bed.

Her bedroom door slammed closed and Killian spun her into his arms, her hair flying. He devoured her mouth, sucking and biting until her lips were swollen. She'd almost forgotten how _possessive_ he could be, almost as if he was trying to brand himself on her skin.

Didn't he know he'd already ruined her?

Emma pushed off his suit jacket, fingers fisting the cotton of his shirt. She moaned when she felt his teeth graze the cords of her neck, keening even louder when he bit down gently. “Oh god.”

Killian hitched her leg around his hip; she could feel his arousal, hard and heavy between her legs. “I'm going to mark you, Swan,” he growled into her skin. “Mark you as _mine_.”

If she'd had any higher brain functions, she would have pointed out that their rings already did that, but all she could think about the way his mouth felt on her skin, the scratch of his scruff. Her clit already ached, her black lace panties were soaked. She'd have let him fuck her right there if he wanted.

Instead, she nodded furiously, offering her neck to him. His large hands roamed her body, settling under her ass, kneading and squeezing as he licked and sucked and nibbled on her skin. She tried to grind her hips into his, desperate for some friction, anything to ease the deep ache, but the angle was all wrong and it only frustrated her more. She whined and mewled, but Killian didn't quit until he was satisfied with what was sure to be a large purple hickey in the morning.

“Bed,” Emma panted harshly. _“Now.”_

They weren't that far from it; it still took them far too long to get there. Killian kissed her thoroughly, backing them toward the bed. The first night they had been jetlagged, the second night they'd been up late talking about Belle and Gold. They had no such distractions tonight and Emma was determined to take full advantage.

She shoved him onto the bed, surprising the hell out of him. “Swan?”

“My bed, my rules,” she purred, sliding her hands up his thighs.

Killian swallowed, his eyes darkening even more until they were nearly black. “Which rules would these be, love?”

“You'll see.” She nudged his legs apart and stood between them. “Now unzip me.” He obeyed quickly, reaching around with both hands to unzip her dress. One hand brushed bare skin as soon as it was exposed, sending tingles down her spine. She truly was addicted to his touch. As soon as he reached the end, Emma stepped back, even though her body cried out for him. _They had all night,_ she reminded herself.

She reached up and slowly pulled the dress off, slipping her arms from its confines. As the fabric slid over her skin, it exposed her strapless bra with its matching black lace. Killian inhaled sharply, but to his credit, didn't move. The smooth fabric glided over her hips and down her legs, pooling at her feet. She left her heels on, knowing how much he liked that. She kicked away the dress and stood—just out of reach—for his perusal.

His dark lust filled gaze washed over her, up and down, lingering on her straining breasts before flicking back up to her eyes.

“Would you like to touch?” she asked.

“Aye.”

Emma shivered. “Not yet. Soon.” She ignored his pout—tempted to kiss it off his face—and instead bent down. He got an excellent view of her ass as she dug under the bed for her box of goodies. She had a decent sized collection; in her single state it had been necessary. Neal had never wanted to experiment or anything, so she was a bit nervous about this, but Killian was different. Sure, they had a lot of sex, but they mixed things up; both of them willing to try new things. It just made everything more exciting and intense. It was a side of herself that had been there all along; it just took the right person to bring it out.

“Swan?”

“You trust me?”

“Of course.”

Emma laid the box aside and bent down to kiss him. She kept it slow, sweet, warming them both from the inside out. “I love you,” she breathed when she pulled back a bit.

“And I you, Emma.”

She stepped back between his legs, bringing his hands to her hips. She bit back a moan as he instantly started to rub circles into her bare skin. “Damn,” she muttered.

“Love?”

“What is it about you touching me?” she demanded, skin warm and tingling.

“Do you want me to stop?”

She dragged one hand between her thighs. “Does it feel like I want you to stop?”

Killian chuckled. “Then I shan't.”

“Enjoy it while you can,” she said cryptically.

He raised a curious brow at her, but she ignored him. Instead, she went to work on his shirt, pulling on the buttons. As she bent lower, Killian's mouth skimmed her clavicle, tongue darting out to lick her skin. Her clit was throbbing now; almost unconsciously, Emma started grinding her hips into his hand which still rested between her legs.

“Fuck, I love the way you move,” Killian whispered into her skin. He pressed harder, finding her clit, making her moan in pleasure.

“Shit,” she cursed, bracing her hands on his shoulders. She was trying to undress him and he was too busy winding her up like a toy.

“Hmm, I love that too,” he said, kissing her shoulder. “So responsive, so eager for me.” One hand slid up her back, deftly unhooking her bra. It fell into his lap. This was rapidly getting away from her, her need for him too strong. Perhaps she could just let him get her off, then have her way with him. As punishment.

Yeah, that sounded like a plan.

Emma arched her back, fingers diving into his hair, dragging his talented mouth to her nipples. “You know what to do,” she hissed. Her thighs clamped around his hand as he sucked on an aching peak, a loud groan tumbling from her lips. “Fuck.”

“You need this,” he said, voice low and throaty, accent thicker. “You need me doing this to you. Making you hot. Making you _want.”_

“Yes,” she bit out. She moved to straddle his thigh, giving him the space he needed to touch her. His fingers rubbed her through the lacy material, driving her crazy. It was so good, but not enough at the same time. He switched his attentions, sucking and biting at her other nipple and Emma keened. She hips moved faster, grinding into his hand. Killian yanked her panties aside, fingers slipping through her folds, the heel of his hand brushing her clit.

“That's it, lass. Just let go for me.”

Her orgasm caught her by surprise, stealing her breath as her body bowed and tightened. Her cries filled the air, nails digging into his shoulders. Killian brought her down slowly, still touching her wet flesh, pressing kisses into her skin. Emma pulled him close, resting his head on her chest; she was certain he could hear the frantic beat of her heart, all because of him, the things he made her feel.

After her breathing returned to some semblance of normal, she bent down to kiss him, lips lingering on his. “Not exactly what I had in mind, you know,” she muttered.

“Seems I am helpless against your charms, love,” he replied, a smug grin on his face. “But you are bloody gorgeous when you come.”

“You think this is funny?”

“Certainly not. I take pleasing you _quite_ seriously, Swan.”

“And what if you _dis_ pleased me?”

His eyes lit up as he understood her meaning. He kissed the swell of her breast. “Then you could do whatever you liked with me,” he said, voice dripping with want.

A shiver rolled down her spine, thrilled that he was there with her. She nodded, cupping his face in her hands. The scruff was rough against her palms as she angled his lips up to hers. She kissed him, drawing his lower lip between her teeth. Her hands smoothed over his shoulders, lips following down his neck. She finally got his shirt off, tossing it aside. She wanted to lick him all over, but she needed to get him naked first.

Unceremoniously, she knelt between his legs and removed his shoes and socks. He watched her with barely restrained lust, his fists clenching over and over. She smirked up at him and started to nuzzle his crotch, making him groan and curse. She left a parting kiss to his stomach before reaching for his belt, yanking it open. She made quick work of his fly; Killian sighed as a bit of the pressure eased. Emma hardly opened her mouth to speak and Killian was already lifting his hips, giving her the space to pull his trousers and boxers off.

His thick weeping cock rested against his stomach and Christ, he looked good enough to eat.

It took her a minute to regain her composure. “Sit back against the headboard,” she ordered quietly.

“Swan?”

“Do I have to ask you again?” she said, her voice louder, sharper.

Killian's jaw clenched and he licked his lips. He stared at her defiantly for a moment longer, then he moved, tossing her pillows aside until he was nestled against the headboard. Emma rose and climbed into the bed after him, dragging her box of goodies with her. Once she was in front of him, she lifted the lid and pulled out a long silk scarf. Her eyes locked with Killian's as she rubbed her hands over the cloth. Emma skimmed the silk over her body, teasing her sensitive nipples, more wetness pooling between her thighs. Killian swallowed and stared at her, mesmerized by her.

“I'm going to tie you up with this,” Emma said. “You won't be able to touch me.”

He swallowed again and nodded curtly. Emma grinned. She closed the gap between them, winding the silk through her fingers. Then she eased his arms behind him, through the rungs of her headboard. She bound one wrist and then the other, using one of the knots she'd learned on the _Jolly_ to secure him.

“Too tight?” she asked.

Killian yanked on his wrists experimentally. “It's fine,” he assured her.

Emma kissed his cheek. “Good boy.” She moved so she was straddling him, wanting to worship his body the way he did hers. His clavicles strained under the restraints; Emma pressed her mouth to them, licking and sucking. His chest hair teased her nipples; she moaned. He tasted faintly salty; the scent of the sea clinging to his skin. She touched him everywhere but where he needed her most, hands and mouth relearning every small place that made him writhe and moan. Soon he was panting, pulling on the scarf, hips rocking up for desperately needed friction.

“Fuck. _Emma.”_

Emma pulled her lips away from his quivering thighs. “No, you don't get to _fuck Emma_ yet,” she growled. “You have to earn it.”

He glared at her, but with his wrists tied, he could do nothing but obey her. (Truly, if he wanted to get free, he could. It was a testament to his much he wanted this too that he didn't. That he let her toy with him.)

Emma sat up on her knees and started pulling at her panties. She got them off with less grace than she would have liked, but at least she didn't fall. She was going to make him watch, watch her please herself over and over before she took him inside her. And even then _she_ was calling the shots. Emma dug in her box and withdrew a long thin blue vibrator. She turned it onto its lowest setting and brought it to her nipples, circling and teasing.

“ _Oh.”_ Sensitive skin puckered and tightened painfully as she touched herself, knowing Killian was watching her. “Oh yes.”

“Bloody hell, Swan.”

Her eyes snapped back to his. “Do you like watching?”

He nodded. “And you like to  _be_ watched,” he shot back.

It was true, but she didn't have him there to talk back to her. Emma turned the vibrator up and brought it to his skin; Killian flinched and groaned. “Maybe I should use it on  _you_ instead.” She ran it along the inside of his thighs; Killian hissed. She turned it off and reached back for her box. She exchanged the vibrator for her bullet; it was better for what she wanted. Emma switched it on and palmed it. The vibrations teased her skin, but this wasn't for her. Killian's eyes shot wide when he realized what she was going to do to him.

“Swan!” he yelled as she brought the little bullet to his engorged flesh. She wrapped her hand loosely around him, stroking the length of him with the tiny vibe. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he tried not to struggle too much, but his eyes were rolled back in his head and a litany of mewls and curses tumbled from his lips.

Emma was dripping, watching the intense pleasure play over his face. She loved that she could do this for him; making him lose control was one of her favorite things.

“Swan, _Emma_ , fuck, you have to...” Killian pleaded. “Before I... _Christ_.” His jaw was set, shoulders straining, body _quivering_...Emma pulled the bullet away abruptly, leaving him panting like he'd just run a marathon. His cock was red and swollen; she'd released him just in time. She left a parting kiss to the head, then leaned up to kiss his lips.

“Do you know how hot that was?” she whispered in his ear. “I'm fucking _dripping_ , Killian.”

Killian leaned back against the headboard, groaning. “Shit.”

Emma kissed him again, wishing he could touch her in return. Her skin practically itched for his hands, his mouth. Maybe next time. She let him rest for a moment, going back to her box. The ache between her legs was killing her, sharp and throbbing. She wanted him inside her desperately, but it was too soon. If she took him now, it would be over far too quickly.

So she got the next best thing.

The dildo was pink, realistically shaped. She'd gotten it on a whim at a time when she missed sex more than she'd ever admit out loud. She hadn't even thought about it since meeting Killian. He was more than enough and far better than any silicone replacement.

“Swan?”

“Hmmm?” Emma sat on the bed, dragging the tip of the dildo through her soaked slit.

“Are you gonna fuck yourself with that?” Killian asked bluntly, eyes glued to her parted thighs.

“Do you want me to?”

“Fuck yes.”

Emma swallowed, turned on by his eagerness. Smiling, she inched a bit closer to him, hitching her legs over his, spreading herself wide so he could see. She laid back and drew the dildo between her legs, coating it in her wetness. She sighed in pleasure as she pushed the tip inside, the stretch she had been craving. Not as much as she was used to now, but enough.

“Fucking _hell,”_ Killian muttered. She felt him shift on the bed, but he didn't try to loosen the scarf that held him.

Emma focused on herself, on the slide of the silicone against her walls. The dildo wasn't quite as big as Killian so it didn't hit her the same way; it took her a few moments to find a rhythm. Once she did, she was moaning, hips rising off the bed as she fucked herself with the toy.

“I want to see you come,” Killian begged, shifting under her again. “Please, Swan.”

Emma bit her lip and moved her wrist faster, the pressure coiling deep within her. She reached down and started rubbing her clit quickly, unintelligible words filling the room. Her blood boiled, body coated in sweat, her release crashing into her, hips bucking off the bed as she cried out.

“Oh...” she panted. “Oh my god.” She eased the toy out and tossed it aside, her body limp, breathing harsh. Her head lolled as the endorphins flooded her body, making her feeling tingly and hot.

“My beautiful Swan,” Killian murmured. She heard rustling and a deep sigh, but she didn't want to move. But as soon as she felt his warm hands on her skin, she realized he'd gotten free. She tried to care—she was supposed to be in control—but the way her body reacted to his touch silenced her weak protest.

“I wonder what else you have in this little box of yours,” he purred, kissing her knee. Emma wrenched her eyes open and saw him reaching for it; she flushed a bit as he opened it. “Interesting.”

“What?”

“I'm surprised you didn't use the cuffs.”

“Maybe...I was testing you.”

“I assure you, love, I am quite willing to be tested whenever you wish.” Emma flushed a deeper red and scrambled to sit up. She was still a little breathless, but she managed. Her eyes widened at the next thing he pulled out of the box. “Is this what I think it is?”

The silver plug dangled between his fingers. “Um, yeah.”

“Don't be embarrassed, Emma.” He kissed her temple. “Don't ever be embarrassed with me.”

And that was one of the reasons why she loved him so much. He adored her exactly as she was. “I've never used it,” she admitted.

“Really?”

She shook her head. “Would you...?”

A groan rumbled in his chest. “If you think any sane man would say 'no' then we need to disabuse you of that notion, Swan.” He closed the box and tossed it, then laid the plug aside. He laid her out on the bed, kissing her deeply before slowly easing his way down her body, mouth and hands giving her the attention she'd secretly been craving. She felt  _alive_ when he touched her, alive, cherished, desired and loved.

If his touch was a drug, then she was addicted. Completely and utterly.

When he got to the apex of her thighs, Killian gently eased them apart. He plucked the plug from the comforter and slid it through her folds. The metal was cold and Emma flinched, but it wasn't take long before it warmed, coated in her arousal. Emma propped herself up on her elbows as he teased her; his cock hot and heavy against her leg. Her mouth watered, anticipating what would happen next.

“Roll over, love.”

Emma did, getting on all fours. It was his mouth she felt first, tongue licking at her hole. Emma moaned loudly, fingers gripping the sheet. He massaged her ass cheeks, getting her to relax. It was easier and easier every time. In fact, she welcomed it; the sensation doing very naughty things to her. She held her breath as Killian finally eased the plug in, slowly, rubbing circles into her lower back. It was definitely different, but nothing she couldn't handle.

“Can I have you now?”

Emma looked over her shoulder; Killian was eying her darkly, one hand stroking his straining cock. Another shiver—of the decidedly  _good_ kind—raced down her spine. “Please.”

Killian parted her folds and rubbed his cock over her slit; his groan going directly to her clit. She pushed her hips back impatiently, just needing him in her already. Emma arched her back as he entered her, the dual stretch nothing like she expected. But fuck, it felt  _so_ good.

“Oh fuck,” she hissed.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No! It's _good_. Fuck, it's _so_ good.”

Killian thrust deeper inside her, his hips already a bit erratic. “So  _ fucking _ tight like this. Shit.”

“I  _ need _ you,” Emma cried, wiggling her hips. They both moaned, the movement sending jolts of desire through her. “I won't break.”

“Bloody hell,” Killian exhaled heavily. He was trying to be careful, to not hurt with the unfamiliar toy, but she just needed him to  _ fuck _ her. So she squeezed her inner muscles around him to make her point. “Fuck!”

“Do it!”

Killian made a sound that was perilously close to a snarl, but then he was moving, the thick slide of his cock what she had been so eager for. His hands gripped her hips, hard enough to bruise as he took her with sharp precise thrusts. She felt so many things at once, she couldn't focus. It was like she was drowning in pleasure, her whole body shuddered, warmth spreading through her.

They came together; Killian's hoarse scream drowning out her whimpers. She was too breathless to scream. But she felt it. She felt that last orgasm deep in her bones and would for a long time. Her arms gave out and she fell into the mattress; Killian caught her around the middle. Gently, he laid her down, removing the plug. Emma winced just a little; Killian whispered apologies into her skin.

After cleaning everything up, Killian tried to spoon up behind her, but Emma rolled to face him. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“That was...kinda intense, right?”

Killian chuckled softly. “A bit. Been dreaming about tying me up for a long time, love?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.” She curled her fingers with his. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

She looked down at the ring on her finger, how much her life had changed since she met the man beside her. “Everything, I guess. It's been a hell of a ride so far.”

“I'd do it all again, Emma. I wouldn't change a single moment.”

“Not even that separated for weeks part?”

He sighed and pulled her into his chest; contentment and safety washed over her. “Perhaps  _ that _ . Nearly went mad waiting for you. Wondering if I'd ever see you again.”

“We're here now,” Emma said, more to herself than him. “I'm not letting anyone take you away again.”

He kissed the crown of her head. “Ready to go home?”

She smiled. “Hmm, home sounds nice. How's the weather?”

“Gorgeous and sunny.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You have  _ no  _ idea what it's doing in Honolulu right now,” she accused.

“Perhaps. But the odds are in my favor.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because I'm married to the most amazing woman I've ever met?”

“That woman can kick you out of her bed, you know.”

“You won't.”

“Why not?”

“You like me to keep you warm.”

Damn him for knowing her so well. She tangled her legs with his. “Well, you are kind of a furnace.”

“Is that an insult?”

“Nope. I like it. It'll come in handy when we come back here to visit at Christmas.”

Killian tilted her chin up to look at him. “Christmas?”

“Didn't I tell you? Mom asked me before the ball. If we would come back here for Christmas.”

“Christmas with your family?”

“They're yours now too, babe.”

She swore his blue eyes got a little wet. But he smiled. “Aye. Christmas in New York. We can come right after graduation. Stay a while.”

“Go skating at Rockefeller Center, see the Christmas tree. I should warn you now; Mom  _ loves _ Christmas. Every inch of this place will be covered in decorations.”

Killian twirled the ends of her hair. “Love, I haven't had a real Christmas in...a long time. I think your mother could hose me down with tinsel and I'd love it.”

“Don't give her ideas, okay? I'd like my husband to be tinsel free for as long as possible.”

“Husband. Still getting used to that.”

“Any second thoughts?”

He looked scandalized. “Never. I just figured we'd have time to ease into it. Live together, get our careers started. I don't want to imagine my life without you, Swan.”

“So we did things a little out of order. Who cares?”

“Not I. So long as I get to keep you.”

She leaned up and brushed his lips with hers. “Not going anywhere. Except home. With you.”

* * *

The next day was with filled with suitcases and security and traveling. They decided to make the trip in two legs, stopping first in Los Angeles before continuing on to Honolulu. The Nolans' private jet was smaller than Killian expected, but comfortable. Despite his promise the night before, he let Emma sleep most of the trip; they spent most of the previous night wrapped up in each other and talking about all the things they wanted to do when they got home.

He shouldn't have been surprised that _she_ woke _him_ somewhere over the Rockies and pulled him into the cramped bathroom for their initiation into the Mile High Club. Bloody insatiable minx.

The lone flight attendant discreetly looked away when they exited, giddy smiles on their faces. Killian hoped it would always be like this, with them just happy to be together.

The jet didn't have clearance for the transocean flight so they had to switch planes at LAX. Emma told him the story of her first trip, how she'd scoured the internet for a suitable place to stay on the island. God, it felt like a lifetime ago that he was helping her with her bags. And now they were here, traveling back home, ready to start a real life together.

Strangely it was almost the exact same time in Honolulu when they landed as it had been in New York when they left. Robin offered to pick them up at the airport, but Killian knew they would be in no shape for the drive back to the North Shore. Not after hours and hours on planes. Plus they had their new condo to look at, which Killian was excited about. Instead, he let Robin know they'd be there the next day.

“So shall we sleep or check out this new place your parents gifted us?” Killian asked, taking Emma's hand.

Emma looked up at the clock and groaned. “I guess we could look at the condo first.”

“We don't have to. Could just get a room and sleep off the jetlag, love.”

“No, I want to see it. I know we have the pictures, but...”

“You want to see if it's for us. I understand.” If it was the place they were going to begin their newlywed life, he wanted it to be what she wanted. He could live anywhere as long as it was with her.

Killian gathered their luggage and guided them to the rental car counter. Thankfully, there was no line; in minutes, they loaded the small sedan and started for the address Mary Margaret had given them. The building had a lot of security, cameras, key cards. They had to park in the visitors' lot since they didn't officially have keys or anything yet.

The property manager greeted them cordially; the redheaded woman gave them each a firm handshake. “I have everything ready, Mr. and Mrs. Jones,” she said, smiling. She was about ten years older than them, married as well judging by the diamond on her finger. “We just need your signatures on a few forms, then you can have your keys.”

The manager's office was cramped; Killian's knee rubbed Emma's as the chairs were so close together. Emma perused every form they were given, asking questions, things Killian would have never thought of. He wasn't used to living somewhere with this much security. Or amenities. It was definitely a step up from his dingy apartment on the North Shore. Would they live there until the condo was furnished? Or could they stay in a hotel until the work was done?

The fact that he could ask that question without wondering how in the hell he could pay for such things was mind boggling in and of itself. His entire worldview had been rocked.

“Killian?”

“Aye, love?”

“You with me?”

He gave his head a little shake, smiling at her. He would keep his musings to himself. “Fine, sweetheart. Are we ready?”

“Mrs. Nolan was right,” the property manager said, smiling too. “You are a adorable couple.”

Emma blushed. “May we go upstairs and look around?”

“Of course. It's all yours. When you're ready for the rest of the furniture and décor, just call my office to let security know about all the deliveries and such.” She handed them the keys to the condo itself and key cards for the building. “Enjoy your stay.”

As they headed for the elevator, Killian frowned. “Did she say 'rest of the furniture'?”

“Yeah. That's weird.” Emma bumped his hip with hers. “You don't have a stash of furniture I don't know about, do you?”

“Definitely not.” All he had were the cobbled together furnishings in his apartment and his Jeep. And the _Jolly_ , of course. He'd have to look into finding a place for her here in the city now.

The elevator took them up the fifteen floors to their place. Each floor was essentially its own unit, so they wouldn't have any neighbors to disturb. At least not directly. The elevator opened into a plush, but nondescript hallway; the door was about ten feet away.

“I wonder if they'd let us decorate out here,” Emma mused.

“Do we want to decorate out here?”

“You don't?”

“Swan, I can honestly say I've never _been_ in this situation, so I'm not sure.”

“Oh. Right.” She took his hand, threading their fingers. “We'll figure it out together, okay? I don't want to decide everything.”

“Really? You seem to enjoy being in charge,” he replied with a smirk. She'd nearly driven him mad with lust and want when she'd tied him up the night before.

Emma rolled her eyes. “We're a team, Killian. This is where we're going to live. I want us both to be comfortable here, ya know?”

He squeezed her fingers. “I know. Come on, let's see it then.” Emma opened the door and they stepped inside.

Good lord, it was enormous. Since they had the entire floor to themselves, it seemed almost cavernous, almost too large for only two people. The walls were still plain white, primed for paint or wallpaper. One wall was almost solid glass, giving them a fantastic view of the ocean.

“Is that the marina?” Emma asked pointing toward the window.

“Aye, I believe it is.”

“You can put the _Jolly_ there.”

“I didn't think we would be this close.”

“I didn't either. I bet my mom did though.” She tugged on his hand. “Let's see the rest.” The kitchen was gleaming with silver and granite; he could just picture them cooking together, teasing and laughing. There was a half bath on the way to the bedrooms, of which there were four.

“Optimistic, your mum,” Killian said, chuckling. “Think we'll fill all those bedrooms?”

Emma laughed. “Honestly? I have no idea. I was thinking of turning one of them into an office.”

“Really? Planning on working hard, love?”

She shrugged. “Who said it was for me?”

“Me?” Killian said, surprised.

“Well, you have your thesis to finish. Who knows what after that.”

Killian wrapped his arms around her. “I appreciate the thought, Emma. Perhaps we could share?”

“Would we get any work done?” she asked with a sly grin.

“Sometimes.” He kissed her, missing the feel of her lips on his.

“Hmm, a double office it is then. Ready to see our room?”

“Aye.”

When they got there they finally understood the property manager's comment about furniture. A king size bed sat in the room, plain white sheets covering it, complete with pillows. It was the only furniture in the room, the dark wood standing out against the white.

“Wow,” Emma breathed.

“Did you know about this, Swan?”

“Nope. Must have been Mom though.”

“Shall we try it out?”

“Again?”

“Who said anything about sex? Someone's dirty minded.”

Emma smacked his arm. “Yeah, I'm the only one here who's dirty minded,” she deadpanned.

Killian leered at her, even though he was exhausted. “Knowing's half the battle, they say.”

“Why did I marry you again?”

“Because you love me and were lost without me?”

“I hate when you're right.”

“No, you don't.”

“Yeah, I do.” She glanced from the bed to his face. Then she tapped his arm. “Tag, you're it.” She took off running, leaving him standing there nonplussed. Was she playing a child's game with him? She was halfway down the hall before he started chasing after her. Emma shrieked merrily as she ran, looking over her shoulder at him. He growled, reaching out, missing her by inches. Past the bedrooms, through the kitchen, back into the main living room, their feet pounded the floor. Emma wriggled away each time he caught her, which just made him more determined.

Finally, he snagged her as she ran around their bed, fingers clamped firmly around her wrist. He hefted her up onto his shoulder, Emma laughing and shrieking. He deposited her on the bed, crawling over her to ensure she couldn't get away this time.

“Pleased with yourself, Swan?” he panted, arms braced on either side of her head.

“You chased me, didn't you?”

“Love, I've been chasing you since we met.”

Her eyes softened. “I know.” She lifted her head and kissed him sweetly. “You caught me a long time ago.”

He rolled off her, and pulled her into his side. She came willingly, head on his chest. “We're gonna be happy, Emma.” There was still so much to do, but that thought made all those things seem insignificant. Compared to what they'd already been through, moving and choosing furniture would be easy. They could build a life together, a happy one. He could feel it.

“Are we home?”

“We're together, of course we're home.” He kissed the crown of her head. “But aye. I think we're home. With a little work, this will be a nice place to live.”

“I'm gonna try and find an office nearby. There's still so much to do. We have to get you a phone. We have to pack up our old place. Shopping, getting my things from New York...”

Killian put a finger to her lips. “We will do all of that. I promise. Tomorrow. Right now I'd like to sleep with my wife in this brand new bed.”

“Sleep?”

“Did you have something else in mind?”

Emma yawned, all the traveling finally getting to her. “Nah. I was just checking.”

He laughed. “We'll christen this place soon enough, darling. Sleep now.”

Emma nodded against his chest. It tickled. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Emma.” It didn't take long for her breathing to even out. His lips skimmed her brow, careful not to disturb her. Not everything would be easy, but as long as she was by his side they could handle it. He was still imagining all the good times they would have as he, too, fell asleep.

 

 


	16. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the end. I hope everyone has enjoyed this as much as I have! :D

Emma was on hold.

She'd spent a lot of time on hold for the last two weeks, planning Killian's party. He was graduating on Saturday; she wanted it to be special. He'd worked so hard, long hours in their home office perfecting his thesis. They'd celebrated privately after his successful defense a couple of weeks ago; Emma still shivered whenever she thought about it. But this was important, walking across the stage with his degree and she wanted to have a party.

He didn't know. Right now, Killian was up on the North Shore visiting Robin and loading the last of their belongings into the _Jolly_ to bring down to Honolulu. Emma missed him as soon as he climbed out of his Jeep, leaving her to drive home alone. He was supposed to be back soon and they'd talked or texted every day he was gone. It reminded her a bit of the early days of their relationship, back when they'd have no idea they'd be married and deeply in love.

“Mrs. Jones?” her assistant's voice crackled over the intercom.

“Yes, Sarah, what it is?”

“Elsa Arendelle to see you.”

“Send her in.” Emma grinned, hanging up the phone. She could get a hold of the florist later. She hadn't seen her best friend in almost three solid months, save the occasional Skype call. Elsa and Will had spent the fall in New York, weighing their options. In October, Elsa had called Emma in tears; she and Will had had a fight. Emma almost got on a plane, cursing the travel, but Elsa talked her out of it. Emma and Killian played long distance marriage counselors for a few days (the irony of this was not lost on her) then things seemed to go back to normal.

Elsa sounded fine since, but seeing her in flesh would definitely ease Emma's mind.

The door opened and Elsa stepped through it, looking a bit tired but happy. “Emma? Wow, this is a nice office.”

“Elsa!” Emma jumped out of her chair and hurried to hug her friend. Elsa's wool sweater was rough under her palms. “Cold in New York?”

“I think we got out just in time. They were calling for snow when we left.”

Emma bit her lip. “I hope my parents got out in time. They really wanted to be here.”

Elsa let her go. “I spoke to your mother. They were scheduled to leave a few hours after us. If they got out of JFK, they should be fine.”

Still, that wasn't exactly reassuring. Snow storms could be nasty; it wouldn't take much to shut down the airport. “She's supposed to call when they land at LAX; I guess we'll find out then.”

“They'll get here. They wouldn't miss Killian's graduation.”

“I just want it to be perfect. No one went to his last one; he was alone. Both Robin and Will had to work.”

“I didn't know that,” Elsa said, frowning. “That's so sad.” She squeezed Emma's hand. “But we're all here for him now. You most of all, Emma.”

Emma smiled gratefully. “He's up at Robin's getting the last of our things. He doesn't know about the party.”

“A surprise party?” Elsa laughed. “Now I know why you didn't tell me.”

“Hey, it's not my fault your boyfriend has a big mouth.”

“I think he prefers the term brutally honest.”

“Either way, the man just can not keep a secret, so sorry for not cluing you in sooner. But you can help me finish planning now that you're here.”

“Is that what you were doing when I got here?”

Emma leaned back on her desk. “Yeah. On hold with the florist actually. Do you know how hard it is to get a green and white floral display?”

“Why green and white?”

“Those are the UH colors. I thought maybe...”

“Do you have a cake yet?”

“Oh _shit.”_ Where the hell was she gonna get a cake on such short notice?

“Emma? Calm down. We'll figure this out.” Elsa called in Emma's assistant, and together the three of them decided on ditching the flowers altogether in favor of a UH themed cake. A few calls later and the mini crisis was averted.

“Thanks, Elsa,” Emma said when they got off the phone.

“That's what friends are for. Want to show me around this place? Is this entire building yours?”

Emma shook her head. “Right now we just occupy the top two floors. I've got ten people working for me, not counting Killian.” She grinned. “Oh! I can show you his new office! It's finished, finally.”

Looking for office space had made her very glad that her parents had found their condo. Because it had been a  _nightmare._ The building she found was further away from their condo than she wanted, but it also gave them room to expand should that be necessary. Nolan Ocean Reclamation Initiative (NORI) was still only a fledgling operation; Emma had her assistant, a two person PR staff, five scientists and two part time divers on staff. The latter were for Killian's research and development staff, which she planned on putting him in charge of. Another surprise he didn't know about.

Emma had all kinds of grand plans, but they were slow in coming. They were making a good start, however. She made their first grant of funds just before Thanksgiving; the R & D division was working on a way to improve habitats for the local sea turtle population. When a journalist from the  _Times_ asked for an interview, she'd granted it, using it as a platform to get her vision out there in the world. To her surprise, it worked; she'd gotten calls, donations and offers to invest almost every day since.

For all that, her proudest moment was having her mother send her a picture of the framed article in her father's office. It was the culmination of what she'd dreamed about the day she'd left New York. She was succeeding on her own terms; she'd made her father proud of her.

Having Killian with her was just the icing on the cake, so to speak.

She and Elsa started on the lower floor, where the R & D staff worked. The space was still being remodeled, but it was serviceable for now.

“We have the option to lease the next floor down if we need it,” Emma said, leaving the slightly foul smelling room. She wasn't sure what experiment they were running, but they were intelligent and enthusiastic, which was what she was looking for. “Maybe in a couple of years.”

Elsa didn't say anything as they took the elevator back up. “Elsa?”

“You're really staying here,” the blonde said softly.

Emma swallowed. “Well, yeah. But you knew that, right?”

They walked back toward where Killian's office was. “Of course. I guess, seeing all this...it's just really hitting me. You're not coming back to New York.”

“Well, we'll visit and stuff.” Emma paused in front of Killian's closed door. “I know a lot has changed, but we're always gonna be friends, Elsa. You're the closest thing to a sister I have. I don't want to lose that.”

“I don't either.”

“Have you and Will talked? I know you don't want to leave Anna, but she's a big girl, Elsa. She's getting married herself soon,” Emma said gently. Elsa and Anna had always been close; Elsa didn't seem to be taking all these changes very well.

“I've been changing my mind a lot,” Elsa admitted. “I just...I knew deep down that this day would come, where you and Anna don't need me.”

“That's ridiculous! Did you just see me on my office? I might have forgotten my husband's cake if not for you.”

“That's not what I meant.”

“I know,” Emma said sadly. With all of them growing up and finding happiness, they'd never truly be as close as they were as children. It was simply impossible. “But that doesn't mean that I don't need you. Anna would say the same thing. You've always been the sensible one, Elsa.”

“You were too until you ran off to Hawaii and met a boy,” Elsa teased.

Emma grinned. “Well, he's a really  _hot_ boy,” she said. “What was I supposed to do?”

“As long as you're happy, I'm happy for you. Don't mind me.”

“Elsa, come on. I want you to be happy too. Whether that's with Will or not. But he _does_ make you happy, I can see it.”

“He wants to start school,” Elsa confided. “Soon. I think he wants to come back here to do it.”

“Elsa, that's...wow. What do you think?”

“He hides behind that attitude, but he's really smart, Emma. I think he can be whatever he wants.”

“The question is where.”

“Exactly.”

Emma thought. “Well, you could split time, maybe? Spend the semesters here, then go back to New York. And summer break would coincide with the offseason, mostly. So you could see Anna and your parents. I know I'd like to have you here for long stretches.”

“I thought about that. It might work. I do miss the weather here,” Elsa replied with a grin.

“I have _not_ missed the cold,” Emma assured her. The temperatures rarely dropped below fifty, as they were so near the equator. It was such a relief from New York. It probably rained more often in the islands, but she didn't mind. Killian looked really great wet.

“I'll talk to Will. I think he'll like that plan.”

“You guys can get a place near us!” Emma said excitedly.

“Since it's apparently so difficult to get into your building, we shouldn't be walking in on you guys any time soon!”

“Hey!” But she was blushing. So what if they'd had sex on almost every available surface? More than once. Sometimes when they were picking out furniture, Emma caught Killian imaging how he would have her on it. Emma did that sometimes too. She bought their couch with precisely that in mind actually. They really were milking the newlywed thing for all it was worth. Six months after they met and still no signs of slowing down.

Which was more than fine with her.

Emma opened the door to Killian's office, letting Elsa have a peak. “Do you think he'll like it?”

“He'll love it. When are you gonna show him?”

“I thought we'd duck out of the party. If you wouldn't mind taking over for me?”

Elsa grinned. “I think I can handle playing hostess for a little while.”

* * *

“Honey, I'm home!” Killian called, opening the door. It was their little joke, the few times they'd been separated since moving in.

“Kitchen!” Emma hollered back. Killian heard voices; they weren't alone. Emma called to say that her parents and Will and Elsa had arrived from the mainland; he was touched they all wanted to be at his graduation. He'd just dropped Robin and Roland off at their hotel for the night. Killian dropped his keys on the little table by the door and moved toward the kitchen.

Emma was bent over the stove, cooking. Whatever it was smelled fantastic. “There you are,” she said, looking up.

“Hello, love.” Emma dropped her wooden spoon and leaned up to kiss him. Just an all too brief press of her lips, as they had company.

“Later,” she whispered. Killian hummed in acknowledgment. He'd missed her fiercely; the ache in his chest lessened with just the sight of her. He gave her waist a squeeze then turned to greet everyone else.

“So what have I missed?” he asked.

Mary Margaret hugged him; David shook his hand, then handed him a beer. “We were just talking about how you've decorated your place,” his father in law said. “It's...unique.”

Mary Margaret smacked her husband's arm. “David!”

“What? I didn't mean it in a bad way!”

“It's very nice,” Elsa said seriously. “I love it.”

“Thank you, Elsa,” Emma said, winking at her friend.

“Yea, most people would think stripes were a bit garish, mate,” Will interjected.

“Almost everything came from Emma,” Killian replied. “I just went in the direction she pointed.”

“Smart,” David muttered. His wife and daughter glared at him.

“Only one wall has stripes,” Elsa pointed out. “It's cute.”

“It's modern chic,” Mary Margaret said. “I especially love that couch you picked out, Emma.”

Killian looked at Emma, smothering his grin. If his mother in law only  _knew_ the things he and Emma had gotten up to on that couch, she probably wouldn't like it as much. It was his favorite piece, aside from the fluffy bed.

“Killian helped, don't let him fool you,” Emma replied.

“I merely tagged along,” he protested. “At your insistence, lass.” They shared similar taste, so he didn't really feel like his input was necessary. But he went anyway, wanting to spend time with her. This was going to be their home for the foreseeable future.

“You enjoyed it though.”

“Because you were there.”

Will coughed; things were getting a bit too sappy for him. Killian thought it was bit hypocritical of him, seeing as Will has his own lass right there, but he let it go. Killian and Emma were just an affectionate couple, gravitating toward each other, touching. He didn't much care if that made other people uncomfortable.

Will was telling him about England's latest match when David's phone rang. He ducked out of the kitchen to answer it, but was back within moments. “Emma, can we turn on the TV?”

“Um, sure.” She looked confused but did as her father asked, after turning the heat down on their dinner. They all gathered around the sixty inch screen as David took the remote and flipped to one of the twenty four hour news channels.

“What's going on, David?” Mary Margaret asked.

But the news reader soon answered her question. “Robert Gold and his son Neal have been taken into custody,” the brunette woman intoned. “The philanthropist magnate has been under investigation since October for corruption and fraud as well as misappropriation of government resources. There are several public officials who have been implicated; Unconfirmed reports of payoffs are rampant.”

There followed a video of Gold and his wretch of a son being carted away in cuffs, much like Killian himself had been. Emma instinctively reached for him, holding his hand tightly.

“She did it,” Killian said softly. He had to admit to being skeptical when Belle rang Mary Margaret not long after their return to the island. He still wasn't sure what to make of a woman who would betray her husband. But Gold was vile, so he agreed to ask his friend for the virus. They'd shipped the memory stick (not trusting electronic delivery of such a sensitive thing) containing the virus to Emma's parents and waited.

This was the first concrete evidence that Belle had kept her word.

“How's that?” Will asked. “Who's she?”

“Gold's wife. Belle,” Emma answered.

“Emma, are you sure...” her mother began.

“They're family,” she said. “They have a right to know. But let's do it over dinner.” She tugged on Killian's hand and he followed her, as he always did. Forever following her, like the sun. And to him, she was.

She still managed to surprise the hell out of him though; dragging his mouth to hers the second they were alone. Killian responded instantly, pulling her close to him and kissing her back fiercely. She pressed kisses all over his face before calming enough to lay her head on his chest. “I missed you so much.”

Killian stroked her back, soothing her. “I missed you too, darling.”

“I know I shouldn't have enjoyed watching that...”

“It's only human, Swan. Especially after you've been grievously wronged.”

“Killian, he had you deported.”

“I remember all too well. But we bested him. Now he'll be punished.”

Emma stood up on her toes and kissed him again, her lips lingering on his. “It's over. And we're safe now.”

“Aye. We've got our whole life ahead of us, my love.”

“Starting tomorrow when you graduate.”

“Aye, a bloody miracle that is.”

“Hey, you earned it, babe. I know I only got here for the end, but I'm excited for you.”

“You pushed me, you know,” he said, brushing some hair behind her ear. “I'd still be writing that blasted thesis if not for you. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She looked up at him, pure adoration in her green eyes. “We should get this dinner before they come looking for us.”

“Aye.” They worked side by side, putting things in bowls and serving dishes. She'd made spaghetti with homemade sauce and meatballs. They took everything out to the dining room; this was their first time truly entertaining in there. The telly was off now, as everyone gathered around the table.

“It smells delicious,” Mary Margaret said.

“Be glad you weren't here for my first couple of attempts,” Emma said, chuckling.

“Everyone has a learning curve, Swan,” he teased, elbowing her gently.

“Watch it, sailor.”

He just shot her a look and waggled his eyebrows; he was antagonizing her on purpose, knowing it usually ended very well for him. He adored her forceful and in charge, taking what she wanted. Her little huff of annoyance told him it worked like a charm and suddenly, he  _really_ wanted their family to get the hell out so he could have her. Again.

Bloody siren.

Instead, Killian forced himself to relax and enjoy their meal. He hadn't seen any of them since they left New York; he had to admit it was nice having people come to visit. Before Emma, his social life was going to Robin's house for matches or out to a bar with Will. Now he  _and_ Will were in happy relationships with women who were far too good for them.

Killian thanked every deity he could think of for  _that._

“So what's going on with that Gold bloke?” Will asked. “Other than his being a lying ponce, o'course.”

All eyes turned toward Emma and Killian. “Before we left New York, Belle offered to help bring her husband down. She was disgusted with what he'd done to Killian.”

“I always wondered about her,” Elsa said thoughtfully. “She seemed too nice to be married to someone like Gold.”

“She wanted to see the best in him,” Mary Margaret replied softly. “I think we all do that with the people we love.”

Killian saw Elsa and Will exchange a look. He'd soundly berated his friend when he'd been stupid enough to put their relationship in jeopardy a few months ago. As always, Will's mouth had gotten him in trouble and even someone as understanding as Elsa could be sorely tried. It wasn't long after that, that Will started talking about coming back to Hawaii to go to school. Killian thought it was a great idea; he missed having his friend around. Robin lived too far away and had his own family to tend to.

“Anyway,” Emma said, “when we got back she agreed to put a virus into Gold's systems. The information was downloaded and given to the authorities. Belle is officially an anonymous source, so this doesn't go past this room.”

“That was very brave of her,” Elsa said, talking a sip of her wine. “If Gold ever found out...”

“He won't,” Killian said seriously. “The virus is untraceable and she destroyed the memory stick it was on. If the authorities are halfway competent, that ponce and his son should be in gaol for a very long time.”

“Who will run his company?”

David shrugged. “His accounts have been frozen. A lot of his property has been run through shell companies so they should be fine for now. If he is convicted though, I imagine a lot of it will be auctioned off.”

Which meant places like The Crocodile would be under new ownership. The resort was very lucrative, so there shouldn't be a shortage of buyers. Regina still ran the place; for Robin's sake, Killian hoped any transition went smoothly.

Dinner was a bit subdued after that. Gold being taken down was wonderful news, but it went beyond him. A man like that had thousands of employees and they would be facing uncertain futures. Killian knew how that felt; to not know if you would have another paycheck. But he knew in his heart they'd done the right thing. Killian surely wasn't the only person who'd suffered Gold's wrath. Exposing that fraud for who he truly was...well, that was doing the world a service.

Killian offered to start cleaning up while Emma saw everyone out. He was a bit knackered after sailing around the island, but he had a few more hours in him. He had to be on campus two hours early for the ceremony; his cap, gown and hood lay on one of the chairs in their bedroom, waiting to be used. He was excited and a bit nervous. He didn't want to trip like he did last time. Especially since Emma and their family would be there.

Although, last time he'd been a gangly lad of twenty one. Now he was almost twenty six and much more sure of himself.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Emma asked.

“Just thinking about tomorrow, love.”

“Nervous?”

“I have done this before, you know.”

“It's okay to be nervous, Killian.”

Killian rinsed off a dirty plate before placing it in the dishwasher. “I tripped last time,” he admitted. “Climbing up the stairs to the bloody stage. Nearly did a face plant right there in front of everyone.”

Emma didn't laugh. She wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Well, you seem to have outgrown your clumsiness.”

“Aye, now I just seem to attract it,” he teased. Emma was still clutzy sometimes. Killian found it endearing.

“Hey!”

“Swan, you spilled coffee all over my kit.”

“Keep that up and you won't be getting any sex tonight.”

Killian growled and spun them around, his soapy wet hands pinning her arms. “I thought you missed me?”

She stuck her chin out defiantly and shrugged. “I've got my little box now.”

Killian well remembered that box of sex toys she owned. They become well acquainted in the months since they returned. But he knew Emma preferred  _him_ to any toy. He leaned in and kissed her neck; Emma shivered. “So you didn't imagine me while you touched yourself? You didn't want  _my_ cock inside you instead of that feeble plastic? Am I so easily replaced, love?”

Emma's breathing was shallow and ragged; her skin was flushed. She swallowed and tried to speak; she licked her dry lips. “Killian...”

He kissed the spot below her ear that made her writhe, shifting his hips closer to hers. The dishes were forgotten; he'd gotten most of them done anyway. All he could focus on now was  _her_ , the way she smelled, nipples hard under her shirt, her tiny whimpers as she rubbed her thighs together. Killian crowded her, lightly rocking his hips into hers, cock already painfully hard. He'd been gone for over a week; he needed her.

Emma fisted his shirt, jerking him back to her. She kissed him hard, teeth clacking, tongue thrust into his mouth. He let her, loving the way she melted into him. He lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her spread legs, which she wrapped around his waist.

“Tell me you missed me,” he panted between kisses.

“Every day,” she swore. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, tugging on the strands. “I hated not having you here.”

“Your toys not enough to service you?” He was unbuttoning her blouse, weighing a breast in each hand, thumbing the peaks. Fuck, he missed how soft she was, the way her curves fit against him.

Emma moaned, arching into his touch. “It's not... _this_ ,” she breathed. “Fuck.”

“Is that what you want? Bend you over this counter? Make you scream my name?”

“Please!”

He would surely pay for this at some later time, but that was okay. He loved their give and take, their battle for dominance. Which wasn't truly a battle at all, since they were more than equals. Killian pulled her off the counter and spun her around. The granite would be cool on her heated flesh; he yanked the cups of her bra aside so she could feel it. He teased a breast while he worked on his pants, snarling with impatience when they didn't cooperate.

Eventually, he got them shoved past his hips, his cock bobbing proudly. Her absence had not lessened his desire for her; he'd had to reacquaint himself with his hand, much to his chagrin. But now finally, he could have her, feel her warm slick sheath wrapped around him.

“Bend over, princess,” Killian growled, hand pressed to her back. Emma obeyed him, hissing as the cool counter hit her flushed skin, just as he planned. He rucked her skirt up, foot kicking her legs wider apart. His fingers skimmed her cunt, testing her readiness; she was hot and slippery, perfect.

“Killian, please!”

“Easy, love. I've got you.” He kissed the back of her neck, letting the tip of his cock nudge her entrance. Slowly, he eased himself into her, groaning as she stretched to let him in. He moved until he was fully sheathed, letting out a low moan.

“Oh god, yes,” Emma hissed, knuckles white on the edge of the counter.

Killian rocked his hips a little, barely moving inside her. “Miss me, Swan?”

“Yes!”

He pulled back a little more, keeping his strokes slow and even, even though it did nothing but tease them both. He wanted more than just a quickie over the counter. Emma mewled and whimpered, pleading with him to go faster, harder, but he ignored her.

“How does this feel?” he asked, sliding back in, still maddeningly slow. “Tell me, Emma.”

“Good,” she groaned. “ _Full_. I feel so full.”

“Bloody hell.” He picked up his pace, just a bit, the drag of her walls along his shaft making him crazy with need. Emma shoved her hips back, her whole body trembling.

He never really was one to leave a lady wanting.

Killian bent over her, his hips snapping into hers, harder, faster. The new angle had him striking her g spot perfectly and Emma cried out, begging for more. He murmured words of love and praise into her ear as he gave her what she wanted, her walls beginning to flutter. Emma screamed his name as her orgasm hit full force; she exploded under him, walls clamping down on him. He followed a second later, hips still rutting into hers, heat scorching his veins. He lay across her back, breathing labored and heavy, heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

He recovered enough to stand, giving Emma the room to catch her breath. Her legs were still shaking. Killian let her skirt fall, then tucked himself back into his pants. Emma moved to stand, swaying on the spot. Killian caught her around the waist, letting her lean on him, kissing her temple. Gently, he carried her to their bedroom.

“Would you like a bath before bed, sweetheart?” he asked, hovering between the bed and the bathroom.

“Hmm, a bath sounds nice.”

“Very well.” They moved to the bathroom; it was almost three times the size of the one in his old apartment. Emma rested on the double vanity while Killian drew their bath. She was already naked by the time he turned back to her. “Depriving me of all my fun, Swan?”

“You just had some fun.”

“Aye, but I enjoy undressing you.”

“You enjoy a lot of things that involve me naked.”

His eyes roved over her. “You  _are_ rather stunning.”

She blushed but rolled her eyes. “Strip and get in the tub, sailor.”

“As you wish.”

They had a nice soothing bath, with surprisingly little fooling around. Emma wanted to hear all about his trip, how Robin and Regina were doing, little Roland. Robin was thinking about opening his own garage; Roland was starting preschool. Killian hadn't seen Regina, but Robin said they were doing fine.

“So all three of you are paired off now,” Emma observed.

“Aye, I guess we are.”

“Is it weird? Not seeing them as much? Putting a crimp in your bro time or whatever?”

Killian cocked his head. “I'm not sure, honestly. We didn't used to see each other that much when I was down here for the semester, so perhaps we're just used to it.”

“Oh.”

“Why do you ask, love?”

“I was talking to Elsa the other day.”

“Ah. How did that go?” He knew Emma had been worried about her friend. About how Emma's marriage and move would affect their friendship.

“Did you know Will wants to go to school?”

“He mentioned it. He said Elsa liked the notion. It would be nice, having them around some during the year. I've enjoyed our evenings out.”

“Elsa asked my advice and that's pretty much what I told her. I'm married, Anna's engaged. It's a lot of changes. I'd never have dreamt all this six months ago.”

“Life has a way of doing that I've found.” He kissed the crown of her head. “That's what makes it worth living.”

Killian was surprised just how eagerly Emma practically _shoved_ him out the door the following morning. Sure, he had to be at the arena earlier, but he had hoped for a bit of a lie in since he'd slept without his wife for so long.

Instead, Emma adjusted his tie, thrust his cap and gown into his hands and kissed him farewell. “Knock 'em dead, babe,” she said smiling. “We'll be cheering for you.”

“Oh bloody hell,” Killian muttered with a playful roll of his eyes. He tried to sound mortified, but having family there was going to make the day perfect, no matter how they acted.

Once he got to the arena, he found a few of his fellow masters' students, acquaintances and friends who'd gone through the program with him. As they mingled and caught up, almost everyone was shocked at the ring on Killian's finger. He'd been known as a loner, focused on his work. Only joining in for the occasional beer or study group. Now he was married and on the cusp of a really great career.

Some professors came around to guide everyone to their proper places; the doctoral students would enter first, then the masters students, all in alphabetical order. He didn't pay much attention to the bachelors students; they weren't going to be called individually, there were too many of them. Their degrees would be bestowed by college. It was just more time for him to sit there, waiting.

The ceremony was supposed to take no more than two and a half hours, but he would believe that when he saw it. His first graduation took over three.

He was adjusting his hood when his phone buzzed. Strictly speaking, they weren't supposed to have them, but he wasn't about to listen to inane speeches and names for hours without sharing commentary with Emma.

_We're here_ , her message read.

Killian grinned and felt his shoulders sag in relief. He didn't doubt her, but he felt calmer, knowing she was out there waiting.  _Any trouble?_

_Nah. Just waiting for you._

_Should be anytime now, love._ He slipped the phone back into his pocket. He prayed that his seat wasn't in the front row; it would be bad form to be texting on his phone rather than listening. After what seemed like an eternity, the advanced degree students moved in their lines from the staging area toward the arena floor. The processional was being pumped in over the loudspeakers as they stepped onto the floor. Killian felt a sense of deja vu, but he knew this would be very different from the first.

He followed the lady ahead of him—her last name started with an I—as they filled in the seats. Mercifully, Killian was in the third row, toward the end. Once he sat, he craned his neck trying to find his family in the crowd. He heard Will whoop and turned that way. His friend was waving frantically and Killian smiled. He waved back, eyes lighting up even more when he spotted Emma a couple of seats down. She waved too with that beautiful smile he adored.

“Friend of yours?” the woman next to him asked.

“Aye. I was waving at my wife though.”

“Which one is she?”

Killian nodded toward her. “The blonde in red, couple of seats down.”

“Hmm, pretty. How long have you been married?”

Killian could already sense where this conversation was going. “Three months now.” On their anniversary, he'd taken Emma back to the arcade where they had their first date, recreating it almost exactly. Except for the sea wall. There he cashed in on his bet, daring Emma to finish what they'd started that night so many months ago under the palm trees and stars.

“Still in the honeymoon phase then?”

He nodded. “Happily in fact.” That cut off her inquiries. Killian was very much taken. And very, very happy.

While he was engaged in  _that_ conversation, the rest of the students filed in. Killian checked his watch; it was three minutes to ten, which was when the ceremony was to start. The first hour was as boring as he remembered; too many speeches, voices droning on about academic achievement and excellence.

Killian felt his phone vibrate. He snuck it out of his pocket.  _You bored?_

_Very. Care to keep me entertained?_

Somewhere in the arena a baby started wailing.  _Isn't that against the rules?_

_Since when have you ever been bothered by rules, Swan?_

He couldn't hear her laugh, but somehow he knew she was.  _Not since I met you._

_I merely helped you see what was already there._

Back and forth they went, the electronic banter for more engrossing than whatever the commencement speaker was saying. Killian saw his row mate frown at him, but he didn't care. As long as he walked where he was supposed to, then he could do anything else he wanted.

Finally, blessedly, the speeches stopped. The doctoral students were conferred their degrees first, their advisors hooding each one personally. Idly, Killian wondered if he'd pursue that someday. It would mean more school, more classes, more research. It was certainly something to think about, even if it was unlikely. All of that would mean time away from Emma and he wasn't keen on that any time soon.

The masters students stood; the first row of them moving toward the stage. Like ants they marched up, waiting for their names to be called. Killian looked back at Emma, who gave him a thumbs up. Will, Elsa, Robin, Roland (who was fidgeting), David and Mary Margaret were all watching attentively. Killian flashed them a grin, preparing to follow. He was surprised to see his hand shaking; he curled it into a fist until it stopped. This wouldn't be like last time; he wouldn't trip.

It was their turn. His row snaked its way to the stage, each of them called to the podium, one by one. His eyes darted around nervously, waiting, waiting.

“Killian Jones.”

Killian climbed the stairs and strode across the stage, a grin plastered across his face. He heard Will's cry again, followed by Roland. His new family cheered even louder as he accepted his diploma and shook hands with the provost and the president, then stepped off the stage. He made it back to his seat without incident, giddy and relieved. So many years of hard work, his promise to Liam, was finally fulfilled.

Over an hour—and a blur of names and departments—later, Killian fought his way through the crowd, trying to find Emma. He could hear her calling him. Off to his left perhaps? He moved that way, searching for her blonde hair.

“Killian! Oi! Over here, mate!” Will screamed.

_Bloody arse is a menace,_ Killian thought as he headed toward them. When he got there, Emma was the first to embrace him. “I am so proud of you,” she whispered in his ear. He smiled, reaching up to draw her lips to his, ignoring everyone else.

“Thank you, love.” She smiled, shaking her head at him playfully. He let her go and received hugs and handshakes from the rest of his family. Killian finally had everything he could have ever dreamed of with so much more yet to come.

* * *

“Swan, what is going on? I thought we were having lunch together?”

Emma chuckled, rechecking the blindfold. “We are, silly. So impatient.”

Killian huffed. “Easy for you to say. I can't see a blessed thing.”

“Then my work here is done.”

Blindfolded or not, Killian spun around and pinned her to the wall. “And what work would that be?” he asked, his husky voice doing things to her. Dirty things.

She swallowed. “It's a surprise.”

His nose trailed along her cheek, how he managed it without his sight, she didn't know. But she shivered anyway. Damn him and his far too sexy...everything. “Swan, if you wanted to blindfold me, all you needed to do was ask.”

Unbidden, she had a vision of him tied to their bed, blindfolded, begging.  _Fuck._ They had party to get to, damn it. It was why she rushed him out that morning, so her team could decorate. They were not missing it, even if her panties were suddenly sodden and her skin flushed.

“I will keep that in mind,” she said, voice shakier than she intended. Emma caught his face in her hands, bringing his mouth to hers. She kissed him, just enough to tease, a promise. “Unless you want to blindfold me?”

He let out a shaky breath. “Temptress.”

“Hey, I'm the one pinned against the wall here.”

He ignored her, his head moving unerringly to her throat, lips pressing kisses. “I wanted you this morning and you made me leave,” he muttered.

Emma moaned. “I...had a reason,” she said, angling her head. Killian sucked on her pulse. Christ, they were still in the hallway of the condo; everyone was waiting for them. But her hands wouldn't obey her; she wove her fingers through his hair, holding him to her throat.

“You taste even sweeter like this,” he murmured.

“Killian...we have...party.”

His head came up abruptly. “A party?”

Emma sucked in air, suddenly very short of breath. “Yeah, and you made me ruin your surprise.”

“You organized a surprise party for me?”

She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see her. “Of course. It's your graduation, Killian.”

He lunged for her, mouth hot on hers. “I love you.”

“I know. Can we go now?”

Killian chuckled. “Might have to wait a moment or two, Swan.”

Part of her was seriously tempted to throw him into the fire escape stairwell and just suck him off, but she refrained. She still had another surprise and she did not want that ruined. That one they could both enjoy.

Once he was settled down, she took his hand. “Try to act surprised, okay?”

“As you wish.”

She squeezed his fingers, then opened the door. All of Killian's friends and family, including a quite a few people who had also just been in the ceremony with him, yelled and cheered as soon as they stepped inside. Emma laughed as Killian gave an exaggerated gasp; she was one of the few who knew him well enough to catch its note of insincerity. But it was enough. He removed the blindfold, looking suitably surprised, his blue eyes bright, a laugh on his lips.

Emma rolled her eyes, but let him have his moment. It was for him, after all. The condo looked great, rainbow streamers, cake over by the balcony, a huge banner with “congratulations” across the back wall in place of the usual art. Emma grabbed a bottle of beer and sipped at it, watching Killian make his way through the room. She was so happy for him, to finally have accomplished his goal. His promise to Liam was so important to him, having been the driving force of his life for the last seven years.

She hoped now he could move forward,  _they_ could move forward and build a life together. They'd already made a good start.

“Penny for your thoughts, love.”

“Scarlet,” Emma said, not looking at him.

“You've been spending too much time with Killian.”

“Well, he _is_ my husband. Who else should I spend my time with?”

“Don'tcha have some...I dunno...girly things to do?”

Emma looked at him, one brow raised. “Girly things? You talk to Elsa like that?”

Will shivered. “Course not. She'd snap me like a twig.”

“Don't you forget it.” Emma laughed and took another pull on her beer.

Will shuffled his feet. “Look.” He swallowed. “I, huh, know we didn't get off ta the best start.”

“Will...”

“Nah, lemme get this out. I was a right ponce and I'm sorry.”

Emma nodded. “We're all friends now, Will. It's okay, really.” She'd forgiven him a long time ago; he was good to Elsa and that was all she wanted.

“Did Elsa tell ya about us maybe...”

“Moving out here so you can go to school? Yeah. I think it's a great idea. Killian does too.”

Will looked relieved. “I wouldn't be enrolling until the fall,” he said seriously. “Don't think she's quite ready, what with Anna and all.”

“We'll be here. We could even start house hunting for you.”

“Let's not get crazy now, love.”

Emma smacked his shoulder. “I'm right, you'll see, Scarlet.” She saw Elsa nod from across the room and she grinned. Yes, it would be nice having their friends around.

She let the party go on for a while, mostly just watching. She didn't want to steal Killian's thunder. Instead, she chatted, checked on the food. They didn't normally have a housekeeper or any staff, preferring to maintain the condo themselves. On the rare occasion that they were both really busy, she had the building's cleaning staff come through, but she'd only ha to do that twice in the three months they lived there. But for this party, she had a small army come in and decorate and cater the food.

“Emma?”

She ducked out of the fridge; Killian was waiting for her. “Oh hey.”

“You're missing the party.”

“You're the guest of honor. Shouldn't you be mingling or something?”

He shrugged. “It's less fun without you.”

Emma added a handful of beers to the ice bucket. “You looked like you were having a pretty good time.”

“What'd Scarlet want?”

“He just wanted to talk about Elsa, them moving here.”

“Good.” He stepped forward, snatching her hand before she could find some other task. “You did all this for me?”

“No, I did it for your evil twin,” she quipped.

“Don't think I have one of those, love.”

“Sure you do. Captain Hook.”

He grinned. “You fancy a pirate, Swan?”

“I think,” she drawled, stepping more squarely into his space. “This it would depend on the pirate.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, slipping her arms around his waist. “We should go cut your cake.”

“What if I'm happy right here?”

“Then you wouldn't get your present.”

“I have a present?”

“Mhmm. But it's not here.”

“Where is it? Or is it another surprise?”

“What do you think?”

“I think that you, my love, are a devious little minx.”

“But you love me.”

“Aye.” He sighed. “Very well, let's cut this infernal cake. Then I get my present?”

He was like a kid at Christmas. And she was helpless to deny those earnest puppy dog eyes. “Yes, you can have your present.” He gave her a loud smacking kiss, then tugged her toward the cake. Emma laughed, a pure joyful sound.

Twenty minutes later (Killian wolfed down his cake with almost indecent haste), Emma nodded to Elsa across the room. She winked at her and nodded back. Emma watched as her friend moved to keep her parents occupied, while Emma and Killian left the party. The volume level dropped precipitously as soon as they got into the hall.

“That's better,” Emma said, heading for the elevator.

“I thought you enjoyed parties, love.”

“I do, but they can be kinda exhausting.”

“Tired already?” he smirked as the elevator descended.

“Not a chance.” She slipped the blindfold out of Killian's jacket pocket. “Sorry, but we're gonna need this again.”

“Just what are you planning, Swan?”

“You'll like it. But I don't want to spoil another surprise. Please?”

“Okay, do your worst.”

Emma laughed, but waited until they were in her car before covering his eyes. He only grumbled a little as she drove them to the NORI offices. Once they arrived, she had to guide him to the elevator again, her arm looped through his. She was a bit nervous about this part, despite Elsa's assurance. Killian would be spending a lot of time here; she wanted it to be _his_ space.

The chime pinged and they headed down the corridor, past the reception area, her office, her assistant's desk. Killian was oddly quiet, following her lead.

“Killian?”

“Yes?”

“You okay? You're quiet.”

“I am perfectly fine. Interested in this surprise you've cooked up though.”

“Well, we're almost there.”

“Do I get a guess?”

“You _could_ ,” she said, bringing them to a stop in front of the closed door. “Or I could just show you instead.” She opened the door and pulled him inside. “Surprise.”

Killian pulled off the blindfold. His jaw dropped. His eyes were wide and stunned. As he looked around, they may have gotten a bit wet. The office was the same size as hers, with an amazing view of the ocean. It probably should have been hers, but the ocean was _his_ love, so she thought it only fitting that he have it. She ordered him a custom made desk of driftwood and a plush leather chair to go with it. The bookshelves were lined with some of his books, set off with a few models of sailing vessels. A small couch sat on the far wall, also in leather. There were other little nautical touches here and there; she hoped it wasn't too much.

Emma chewed on her lip as he walked around the space, fingers sliding over things, his mouth twitching in a smile when he noticed certain things. He stared at the painting of an eighteenth century schooner for a long time; it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Finally, she couldn't take the silence any longer. “Um, Killian?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you like it?”

He turned, a bemused look on his face. “Like it? Swan, this is _incredible_. Far more than I deserve.”

“Actually, there's another part of the surprise.”

“Really?”

She moved to his new desk and slid open a drawer. The name plate read: _Killian Jones, Research and Development._ “See?”

He took the plate from her and mouthed the words etched there. “You made me head of research and development?”

“I did.”

“But, love...”

“This is our company, Killian. You've been here every step of the way. You've earned this. My business sense and your science, remember?”

Killian nodded, swallowing awkwardly. Then he threw his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. “I love you so much.”

“Me too, babe.” She inhaled his unique scent as he held her; this was a moment she wanted to remember when they were old. When they broke apart, he took her hand and guided her to his new desk chair. He sank into it, sighing happily.

“Very comfortable,” he observed.

“I wanted,” she began, but Killian yanked her down into his lap before she could finish. Emma yelped in surprise, arms and legs flailing. “What the hell?”

“This is much better,” he muttered happily, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Despite her feeble protests, Emma didn't really struggle. Frankly, she was exactly where she wanted to be. This was their first truly quiet moment since he left the condo that morning. “Why are you always so grabby?”

“That a complaint, love?”

“Curious, more like.”

“I like holding you,” he said simply. “And I missed you.”

“Has been kinda hectic these last couple of weeks.”

“Things will settle down.”

“Forgotten our trip to New York already?”

“We have a few days until we leave. Perhaps you could skip out of work?”

“Would you make it worth my while?” she teased.

He kissed her shoulder, sending shivers down her spine. “Don't I always?”

“Depends on what you want,” she countered, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Killian's hand slid up her leg, under her skirt. Emma held her breath, waiting for him to figure out what she was wearing underneath. “I thought we could start by christening this office.” His large warm hand reached the top of her stockings, held up with garters. “And I don't think I'm the only one.”

“Turnabout is fair, don't you think?” They'd done hers not long after she furnished it, before NORI had even opened its doors. And now they were completely alone.

“Bloody siren, you are,” he growled, teeth scraping her skin.

Emma turned her head, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. Killian's hand stayed up her skirt, toying with the top her stocking, the garter. Goosebumps appeared on her skin, heat beginning to pool low in her belly. She started to turn, trying to straddle his hips, but he stopped her. Killian nudged her legs apart, propping one heeled foot on the desk. Emma moaned, realizing he had her spread facing the large windows.

“There's a girl,” he murmured. “Let me hear you, love.” His hand moved higher, fingers sliding over her sodden panties. Emma bucked her hips, the friction merely teasing. “You can have me anyway you like later. Just let me have this.”

Emma mewled, nodding. She smothered her next moan with another kiss. She missed him so much while he was gone; their reunion the night before not nearly enough to satisfy her. Raw passion clawed at her, fueled by his deft knowing touch. Killian pushed her panties aside, petting her, parting her folds, soft light touches that made her crazy.

“Fuck, Killian.”

“You're taking the week off,” he said, still touching her agonizingly slowly. “We're staying home until I've had my fill of you.”

That sounded like heaven. “Okay,” she panted.

His fingers teased her entrance; her clit throbbed. She sat spread in his lap, legs propped on the furniture, need coiling tighter and tighter in her stomach. He gradually increased the pressure, fingers moving between her clit and her entrance, listening to her as she hissed and moaned. She had one hand in his hair, the other curled around the armrest, trying to maintain some kind of balance. She kept inching down his lap, her hips rocking, trying to fuck his fingers.

“Let go for me, Swan,” Killian said, kissing her neck. “Let go and I'll give you what you want.”

“Shit, shit, _shit_ ,” Emma bit out, helpless to do anything but obey him, her body needing release so very badly. She writhed and bucked in his lap; only the arm around her waist held her in place. She had no control over her body, the pleasure hot and intense.

She slumped against him, panting for air. Killian kissed her temple tenderly, easing her into a more comfortable position in his lap. Emma could feel his arousal against her ass, but he didn't push her. He let her recover, as she listened to the steady thump of his heart.

She still felt a bit twitchy, a lingering buzz under her skin. Killian murmured nonsense in her ear, one hand skimming over her curves. She licked her lips, then moved to reach for one of the desk drawers.

“Swan?”

“Watch,” she said, a tiny smirk on her lips. She pulled out the tiny remote and pressed the button. The blinds to the windows closed, momentarily encasing them in darkness before the office lights came on.

“Well, fancy that,” Killian said, looking up at her in awe.

“I like being prepared.”

“For seducing me in my office, love? You don't need to do _that_ , you know.”

“What if we wanted to have a quickie at lunch?” She hopped off his lap, unpinning the rest of her hair. Then she reached back to unzip her dress. Killian clenched his fists as her body was revealed to him, the dress falling to the floor. “What if I came in here and just started to undress?”

“Point taken,” he said, his voice husky and rough. “That door have a lock?”

She bent over and pulled on his tie. “Of course.” Granted, that probably wouldn't happen very often, but it was fun to tease him. And they did have _this_ night. She deftly unknotted his tie, pulling it free. “Would you like that? Instead of lunch, you got me?”

“Aye.” He sat forward so she could get his jacket off. Then she fisted his shirt and pulled him up, slanting her lips over his. Killian didn't hesitate to kiss her back, his rough hands sliding over her skin. She moaned into his mouth, his touch exactly what she had been craving. It intensified that buzz under her skin, the desire to have him naked along with her.

Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, her movements jerky with need. At last she peeled the shirt from his torso, hands smoothing over the skin, muscles flexing under her touch. God, he was gorgeous, all lean muscle and sinew, the dark hair exactly right. Emma pressed him back against the desk, mouth peppering his skin with kisses.

“Bloody hell, love,” Killian breathed, one hand wound through her hair.

“I've thought about this for a long time,” she said, nipping at the sensitive spot along his ribcage. “I couldn't wait to get you in here so I could have you.”

“Fuck.” Killian dragged her hands down to his pants, hoping she'd take the hint. The trousers were painfully tight; his cock straining in the fabric. Emma grinned wickedly, stroking him firmly before finally relieving him of those confining pants. She was still kneeling in front of him, slipping off his shoes and socks, when she paused to lick a stripe over underside of his cock. Killian yelped, surprised, hips bucking toward her. “Christ, Emma.”

Emma tossed his clothing aside and stood. She ran her hands over his skin; it was warm, almost feverish. “Up on the desk,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his thundering heart. Killian obeyed her, hopping up so his feet were dangling, but Emma shook her head. “Stretch out. You're not going anywhere.”

He cocked a brow at her but did as she asked. Once he was settled, Emma reached behind her and flicked open her bra, adding it to the pile on the floor. Slowly, his near black eyes watching her every move, she unhooked the garters and slid her panties down her legs. She went to remove the stockings but Killian grabbed her wrist.

“Leave those on,” he said gruffly.

Emma swallowed, secretly hoping that's what he wanted. She'd always wanted to do something like that. Emma did kick off her shoes, not wanting the heels to ruin the vanish on the wood. Then she climbed on the desk herself, straddling his hips. She hovered just above where he wanted her, wanting to torment him just a _little_ bit more. She wanted him to remember this, every time he sat at his desk, just like she did at hers.

Lazily, she leaned over him, hair falling around her face like a curtain. Killian pulled her the rest of the way, kissing her hard, plundering her mouth, little growls and groan sending shivers down her spine. His hands molded over her body, remembering each and every place she was sensitive, her moans filling the room. He lifted her effortlessly, bringing her nipples to his greedy mouth, sucking and biting until she cried out from the pleasure. She was hot and dripping, aching to have him inside her.

She reached back blindly; he hissed when she brushed his cock. “Emma.”

She took advantage of his momentary distraction, sitting back up until she was rolling her hips over him, coating him with her slickness. Killian thrust his hips up pointedly, his hands moving up her thighs. Emma's own hips jerked and she whimpered. She reached between them and guided him, eyes locked with his as she sank down and down, taking in every inch. They groaned simultaneously, united in the most intimate of ways.

Emma rode him slowly, hands on his chest. She gave him a little wiggle of her hips every few strokes, determined to drive him as crazy as he had her in the desk chair. She focused on the thick slide along her walls, her eyes falling shut. Killian got impatient, tweaking her nipples sharply.

Emma's eyes snapped open and she grabbed his hand to pull him up. “Problem?”

Killian instantly had his hands on her hips, curling around her waist. “Enjoying yourself, love?”

Emma bit her lip, a shudder racing down her spine. “Oooh yes,” she breathed. “So good.”

He nibbled at her neck. “You're so fucking beautiful when you're riding me, Swan.”

“Fuuuck.” Now it was more than just the feel of him inside her; he was using everything at his disposal to drive her insane. His hands on her, voice in her ear, lips on her skin. Killian was devastating her as only he could. She picked up her pace, tension building. His chest hair teased the hard points of her nipples and she groaned. “Killian.”

“Don't stop,” he said. “Take what you need.”

Emma crushed her lips to his, fingers in his hair. His own hand snaked between them, unerringly finding her clit and giving it sharp flicks that felt so fucking good...she faltered, her rhythm becoming erratic, broken. Her back arched, body going taut as her orgasm crashed into her without warning. She was still spasming when Killian cried out hoarsely, trembling as he spilled himself deep inside her.

“Oooooh.” Emma shuddered, aftershocks rolling through her. She was covered in sweat, hair matted to her forehead. Breathing ragged, she rested her forehead against his, eyes closed.

Killian held her close, his own breathing harsh. Her knees were suddenly killing her; the wood more unforgiving than she'd imagined. “We...should move,” she panted.

“Aye.”

With supreme effort, Emma climbed off him. She moved right for the couch; Killian followed her. There was a light throw resting on the back; she spread it over them as they lay down facing each other.

Emma smiled at him; he looked blissed out and sated, his eyes still a little glassy. “Good day?”

Killian chuckled, a smile pulling at his lips. “It's definitely in my top ten.”

“Top ten?”

Killian ran his hand along her side, tracing the curve of her hip. “Might sound a bit daft, I know.”

“No, it's not.” She cradled his cheek, kissing the tip of his nose. “Do I figure in any more of them?”

Killian laughed, deep and throaty. “Love, I think it's safe to say you're in almost _all_ of them.”

She found his hand, threading their fingers. “Liam?” she asked gently.

He looked a bit bashful, but she loved him for it. “Aye.”

“He'd be happy for you. For us.” She pulled him close, breathing him in. Killian buried his face in her hair, tangling their legs together under the blanket. They just soaked each other in, enjoying the quiet.

She shivered when he kissed her shoulder. “We should get home.”

“Probably.”

“Think they missed us?”

Emma grinned. “I think they're used to it by now.” She pressed her lips to his, savoring their last moments alone.

They got dressed, finding their clothes scattered all over the office. Killian couldn't help but drag his scruff over her thigh as he reattached her garters; she swatted at him playfully. She remembered his demand she take the week off so they could spend time together; it was a great idea. She just had to make some arrangements with her assistant; that could wait until tomorrow.

“Ready to go home?”

“Aye. Let's go see the damage, love.”

Emma thought he was exaggerating, but in this case, his instincts were better than hers. When they got to their condo, it looked like a disaster area. Everyone was already gone. Empty beer bottles were everywhere, little paper plates, a bit of shredded streamers. Killian laughed when Emma groaned.

“I don't remember college parties being this...” she gestured widely with her arms.

“Wild?” he supplied.

“Messy,” she countered, poking him in the ribs.

“Did you ever have to clean up after yours, Swan?”

Damn. He did have her there. “Shut up.”

“Shall we?”

“Clean? Right _now?”_ It was getting late; they were at his office longer than she thought.

He eyed her. “You have something else in mind?”

She took his hand. “Well, I was thinking about taking a shower.”

Killian smirked, pulling her in by the waist. “And...?”

Emma kissed the corner of his mouth, along his cheek, nibbled on his ear. “Then...whatever we want.” She screamed loudly when he picked her up bodily, throwing her over his shoulder to their bedroom. Cleaning could wait until tomorrow. They had the entire rest of their lives.

_FINIS_

 


	17. Prompt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six years after Heart by Heart. Emma and Killian's son's first day of school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First prompt for my December AU Fic Project!

“Mommy! Hurry _up!”_

“We're waiting for Daddy, Liam, remember? School's not going anywhere.” Emma zipped up her son's Star Wars lunch box, trying to hide the tremble in her own fingers. It was Liam's first day of kindergarten and she was kind of a mess.

But she was nothing on her husband, who hadn't slept well the night before and as a consequence overslept. Emma had only just managed to wake him before going to make Liam's breakfast and pack his lunch.

Liam—who looked more like Killian every day—ran down the hall toward the master bedroom; he ran headlong into Killian, who was straightening his tie. “Easy there, lad,” Killian said, catching his son around the middle. He picked the five year old up (even though he was getting too old for that) and twisted him upside down to childish screams of protest. Killian laughed, setting little Liam right side up. “Let's go find your mum.”

Liam led him by the hand to the kitchen; he looked exactly the way Killian believed a five year old should look, hair ruffled, t-shirt slightly crooked, socks falling down. No preppy uniforms for his boy. Killian kissed Emma briefly on his way to the coffeemaker. “Morning, my love.”

Emma squeezed his hand where Liam couldn't see. “Hey.”

“Mommy, Daddy, hurry up!” Liam cried again, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Do you want to go sailing this weekend?” Killian said over the rim of his mug. It was his favorite, one of those cheesy ones that read _World's Best Dad._ Emma got it for him when they found out she was pregnant.

“Yes!”

“Then please settle down. We'll get you to school, never fear.”

The little boy sobered considerably; he loved the ocean just as much as his parents did. It was one of their regular excursions as family. Emma smiled at him before going to grab her briefcase. “You need anything from the bedroom, babe?” she called.

Killian downed the rest of his coffee. “No, love!” He put the mug in the sink. “Alright, Liam. Let's make sure you've got everything.” Liam jumped up, smiling. Killian was happy to his son so excited about school, but he couldn't shake the twinge in his heart. Liam was growing up so fast. Hadn't they just brought him home? “Shoes tied? Backpack? Lunch? All your art supplies?” Liam nodded at each question in turn, hoisting the backpack onto his back. Everything was Star Wars, which made Killian laugh. “I think we're ready, Emma!”

Emma emerged from the hallway, hair twisted up on her head. She was dressed for a business meeting, every inch the smart savvy woman he fell in love with. NORI was doing very well six years on; they even had a secondary office on the North Shore. “Let's go. Liam, walk, don't run.”

“Okay!” the little boy cried, dashing for the door anyway. Emma reached for Killian's hand as they left the condo and took the elevator to the parking garage. Emma drove them to Liam's school; this part of the city had excellent public schools. Emma's parents had tried to push them into some private academy, but Emma put her foot down. She'd done that. She didn't want to subject her children to such a thing. The elementary school was only a few blocks from the NORI offices, so it was on their way to work. They could drop Liam off everyday; she liked that. Emma pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. Liam was already unbuckling his seat belt; he was way too smart for his own good.

Killian beat her to their son's door, steadying Liam as he nearly tripped getting out of the car. “You are definitely your mother's son,” he said quietly, smiling fondly.

“Hey, watch it, buddy,” Emma groused.

“It's one of your most endearing qualities, Swan,” Killian protested.

“Doesn't mean you should point it out to our son.”

Killian pulled her in by the waist. “We love Mummy a little clutzy, don't we, Liam?”

Liam smiled, his boyish face lighting up. “What's clutzy mean, Daddy?”

“Accident prone, lad. You know how you sometimes forget to watch where you're going and bump into things?” Liam nodded. “Well, when Mummy met Daddy, she wasn't watching very carefully and spilled coffee all over his shirt.”

Emma flushed, but smiled at the memory. Strictly speaking that wasn't the first time they met, but Liam didn't need to know that. “Yeah, well, Daddy didn't seem to mind, Liam.” She knelt down and straightened his shirt. “I think he likes it a little too much,” she whispered in her son's ear. Liam giggled. Emma bit her lip and rose to her feet. “Ready?”

“Yes!”

Emma and Killian walked hand in hand to the front door of the school; the three kindergarten teachers were standing outside in the bright Honolulu sunshine, collecting their charges. Other parents were biding their sons or daughters farewell for the day. There were more than a few tears, some from the kids but more from the parents.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones, how lovely to see you again,” Liam's teacher, Mrs. Morris, said, holding out her hand. Each of them shook hers. The woman was young, around their age, petite, plump; Emma and Killian both liked her. “How are you, Liam?”

Suddenly, Liam seemed shy. “Fine,” he mumbled.

“The bell rings in about five minutes,” Mrs. Morris said. “All of my students are lining up along the wall over there.” She pointed. “Then we'll go inside.”

“Thanks,” Emma said. The sudden lump in her throat took her by surprise. God, she didn't want to cry in front of all these people. It was just school for crying out loud. She could do this. Killian saw her face and squeezed her hand tight. “Come on.” They walked Liam to the line of children. When they got to the end of it, their usually exuberant son threw himself into his mother's arms.

Emma knelt down and hugged him tight. She stroked his dark hair, a tear sliding down her cheek. “You be good, Liam. Can you do that for me?” Liam nodded against her neck. She squeezed again, then pulled back, kissing his cheek. “Mommy loves you very much. We'll see you soon.”

Liam nodded and turned to Killian. Killian was already on his knees, ignoring the hard pavement. He hugged Liam so tight the boy tried to wiggle free; Emma laughed as another tear fell. “Listen to your teacher,” Killian said, voice tight. “And be nice to the other children.”

“I will, Daddy.”

“That's my boy.” He kissed the crown of his son's head. “I love you, Liam.”

“Love you, Daddy. Love you, Mommy.”

Finally Killian had to let him go; Emma immediately stepped into his arms as Liam took his place in line. They stood there with some other parents until the kids headed inside. Liam seemed to have already made a friend, talking shyly to the boy in front of him about his lunch box. When the kids were out of sight, Emma exhaled, her face buried in Killian's neck.

“Shh, love. He'll be fine.”

“How are you suddenly so zen? Last night, I was calm and you were freaking out.”

“Do not mistake me, Swan. I won't be calm again until we've taken him home. But we've done all we can.”

“I guess we have to go to work now.”

“Our investors would probably appreciate it.”

Most of the other parents had left; they were alone on the sidewalk. Emma cradled his face in her hands, thumb stoking his scruffy cheeks. He was still just as painfully handsome as the day she'd spilled that coffee on the North Shore. The corners of her lips quirked up as she leaned in to kiss him. He kissed her back, hoping it was just as comforting for her as it was for him. They'd been through a lot in the last few years, but they were just as in love as ever.

They walked hand in hand back to the car; Liam took the keys and drove them the remaining blocks to their building. They'd expanded NORI's operations to the floor below the two they initially rented; Killian's research and development staff had tripled. They had projects going all over the archipelago but it was all based out of this central office. Emma's financial acumen made them the envy of most other environmental community. It had taken a couple of years, but now they were in the black financially and could expand even more.

Killian stopped on the second floor to check on an experiment he was running while Emma headed upstairs to her office. She got messages from her assistant, made a few calls. As she worked, her mind kept drifting to her son, wondering how he was doing. Liam was fine. He was a bright child, was surprisingly artistic. He could already count to a hundred and knew his alphabet. Killian spent long hours with him, reading. Emma liked to watch them from across the room; they were adorable, her boys.

“Swan?”

Emma looked up from the report she was reading. “Hey babe.”

“Brought you some sustenance.”

“You didn't have to do that.”

“I thought we'd share lunch today. That okay?”

Emma got up and joined him on her couch. “Yeah, it's very okay.”

Killian laid the take out bag aside and gathered her in his arms. “Thinking about Liam, lass?”

“Yeah.”

“I was thinking earlier that it feels like we just brought him home. Where did the time go?”

“Raising a son and running a company,” Emma replied, head on his shoulder.

“You're bloody good at both, Swan.”

“Not sure I'm feeling that today.”

“I miss him too. Remember that time he tried to turn my desk into a pirate ship?”

Emma laughed. “You're the one who wanted to show him  _Peter Pan.”_

“The number of times I've seen that movie...” Killian sighed heavily. “Wouldn't change a single second though.”

Emma kissed the underside of his jaw. “Me neither.”

“You sure about that? Still happy you hitched yourself to this horse?”

Emma sat up, facing him. “Very happy.” They gazed at each other for a long time until they both leaned in for a kiss. It was slow and languid, loving and gentle. Killian's fingers wove into her coiled golden tresses making them tumble down her back. “I've got a conference call at one o'clock.”

Killian sighed. “I know. I just like your hair better this way.”

Emma kissed the corner of his lips. “I'll make it up to you.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” He grinned and picked up their lunch. They ate, talking about visiting the North Shore office at Liam's first school break. They hadn't visited Robin and Regina in ages. Emma promised to call Elsa about it as Killian went back to work.

Liam was in a very different mood when they picked up him from school that afternoon. He came running as soon as he spotted them; Killian caught him, grinning broadly. The ache in his chest eased the moment Liam was back in his arms. “So how was school, lad?”

“It was great! Mrs. Morris gave me a gold star for knowing my ABC's!”

“That's great, Liam,” Emma said, accepting Liam's backpack and lunch box.

“Can I do it again tomorrow?”

Both parents laughed. “Of course you can,” Killian said. He put Liam down and took his son's hand. Emma took the other and together they walked back to the car and home.

Later that night, after Liam had gone to sleep, Killian sagged into their bed, exhausted. Liam had talked a mile a minute about everything at his school; it took longer than usual for him to fall asleep. Killian had read three chapters in their latest book, instead of the usual one, waiting for Liam to settle down.

“Tired?” Emma asked, snuggling into his side.

“A bit.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Killian kissed the crown of her head. “Do you think it gets easier?”

“What?”

“Watching him grow up.”

“Probably not.”

“I thought not.” He held her close, her scent comforting. He loved his family more than he could express. His only regret was that his brother wasn't there to see it. “Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“What would you say to having another? Perhaps a little lass with her mum's eyes and little dimpled chin?”

Emma propped her head up. “You want to have another baby?”

“Only if you do. Seeing as you would be doing most of the hard work.”

She rolled her eyes. Killian had been insanely doting while she was pregnant with Liam, putting up with her cravings and crazy mood swings. They'd had a scare early on; Emma couldn't forget that heartstopping moment when she thought she'd lost their baby. It had put her off having more for a while, even though she loved Liam fiercely.

“You always said you regretted being an only child.”

Emma glanced away; that was true. “You seriously want more?”

“Perhaps just one. We don't have to man a ship, Swan.”

She pictured Killian with a little girl; she'd have him wrapped around her finger in no time. Slowly she smiled. “Okay. We can try for another baby.”

Killian's smile lit up his face as he tackled her to the bed. She giggled and wrapped her arms around him as he kissed her. It would take some doing but until then they could have fun practicing.

 


	18. The First Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Killian celebrate their first Christmas together in NYC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second December AU prompt for this story! Enjoy!

Emma rolled over and nuzzled the warm body in front of her. She tucked her chilled toes between her bedmate's legs, making him stir with a grunt of complaint. “Bloody hell.”

She just moved closer; the air was cooler than she was used to. “Cold,” she mumbled.

Killian grunted again and rolled over, pulling her against his chest. “'S okay.” Emma rubbed her nose over his skin, still sleepy. She didn't want to wake up. She wanted to stay in the warm bed with her husband. Killian lazily kissed her hair before allowing himself to doze off again. It was too bloody early to be awake, even if it was Christmas.

When they finally did wake, they were still wrapped around each other intimately. They were used to the warm Hawaiian weather; it was much colder in New York. Even Emma was affected, despite having grown up in the city. Or at least, that was what she told herself, rather than admit she wanted Killian to hold her.

“Morning, love.”

“Hmm.”

“Feet warm now?”

She smiled against his chest. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Let's consider it one of my husbandly duties, Swan.”

Her smile widened; four months later, that still gave her a warm feeling in her chest. They were officially married longer than they'd been merely dating, but it didn't feel like it. In fact, Emma sometimes struggled to recall when Killian wasn't a part of her life. They'd already experienced more drama in months than lesser couples did in years.

“I'll add it to the list.”

“There's a list now?”

“Mhmm. All very proper.”

“Minx.” He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent. “Do we have to get up?”

Emma traced patterns on his bare back. “Probably. I told you before; Mom loves Christmas.”

“So I've seen.” The entire loft was decorated; indeed their bedroom (formerly Emma's) seemed to be only place immune to Mary Margaret's enthusiasm. The Nolans had two Christmas trees. One in the more public foyer and one in the private family room. Both of them were beautiful; Emma and Killian had helped decorate when they arrived from Hawaii. Emma's mother had put it off, expressly so her daughter and new son in law could help.

Killian had been touched by the older woman's thoughtfulness. He was blown away by the acceptance he received from Emma's family; he hadn't had a family to celebrate the holidays with in seven years. Even before that, Liam's death had cast a pall over any festive spirit he might have had.

“The food will be good,” Emma promised, leaning back to see his face. “And presents.”

He grinned at her. “Ah yes, presents.” He leaned down and pecked her lips. “I am looking forward to that.”

“I'm looking forward to this.” She kissed him again, more insistently; he opened for her with little complaint. God, he loved waking up like this, the woman he loved in his arms, kissing him like they had all the time in the world. So many times in the last few months he could have lost her and she was still here, his wife of all things.

Emma sighed into the kiss, in no hurry, enjoying the way his heart thumped under her palm. She didn't fight him when he gently pushed her onto her back, lips grazing her jaw, her throat. She threaded her fingers into his thick dark hair, holding him as he pressed her into the mattress.

“Your parents are waiting for us,” he said sadly, trying not to get too carried away. The urge to just stay in bed and make love over and over was strong. They hadn't seen much of each other in the weeks leading up to his graduation from UH. They had a few precious days before getting on a plane and flying thousands of miles to visit her parents. Once they arrived, they were kept busy, decorating, seeing the sights, visiting friends.

Killian missed those days over the summer where he had her all to himself.

She combed her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. He liked that. “I know.”

He groaned, relaxing into her loving touch. “Emma...”

“Shh.” She smiled and captured his lips with hers. She wanted to enjoy a makeout session with her husband before they faced her parents. “Later,” she promised between kisses. “We'll have our own little celebration, okay?”

“Aye.” He stole one final kiss. “Shower?”

“You go first.”

“I was hoping you'd join me, Swan.”

“Then we'd only wind up having sex and be even later.”

“Spoil sport,” he groused.

“I'll make it up to you, babe. You might have a very special present not for parental eyes. But you only get it if you're good.”

“How can I say no to that? Back in jiffy, lass.” He left her in the big bed and went to shower. Emma went to her closet to check on said present; it was precisely where she hid it. She'd gotten the idea when she took him to see the Rockettes; Killian had never spent Christmas in New York so she wanted him to do all the touristy things. After Radio City, they went to Rockfeller Center, went skating at the park, wandered down Fifth Avenue to see the window displays. Sometimes Elsa and Will came with them; they were still going strong. Emma was happy for them, eagerly awaiting the day their friends returned to the island.

Part of her would always love New York, but Hawaii was home now. They had a condo they loved, NORI was taking off, slowly but surely. With Killian finished with school, they could do what they'd dreamed of, work together for a cause they both believed in passionately. In time, Emma wanted to raise their family there.

Killian would be such an amazing father.

Still, they'd only been married a few months; they had time for all of that. Right now, it was Christmas and she wanted it to be special. It was their first as a couple and Killian's first with family since his mother passed.

When Killian finished showering, Emma swapped him, hurrying through her routine. This was the most excited she'd been about Christmas in many years. She emerged from the bathroom in jeans and a red turtleneck that clung to her curves. She wore the swan necklace Killian had bought for her in a little shop in Honolulu; it stood out against the fabric.

“Beautiful,” Killian murmured, tugging her close and sweetly kissing her lips.

Emma hugged him back, her fingers digging into the green wool of his sweater. “We're color coordinated. Very Christmas-y.”

“Your mum may have hinted that it was expected?”

Emma stroked his scruffy cheek. “Thank you for putting up with all of this.”

“Nonsense, my love. I am precisely where I want to be.”

“I love you, Killian.”

“And I you, Emma.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Come, let's go see what Santa's left us.”

She laughed and followed him out of the room. Their bedroom was on the other side of the loft, giving them privacy, but making it quite a hike to the rest of the living space. The scent of food cooking hit their nostrils immediately; Killian felt his stomach rumble.

“Who's cooking?”

“Dad, I think. The staff gets the holidays off.”

“Do you think we should help?” When Emma first came to the island, she had no idea how to do simple things, like cook. Through sheer determination, she'd taught herself; cooking together was something they enjoyed doing as a couple now.

“He'd refuse. Best to just let him get on with it.”

“Understood.” Killian was still feeling his way around David and Mary Margaret, even though they were very supportive of the relationship. They hadn't gotten off on the best foot, but in the end, they wanted Emma to be happy.

“Good morning, you two,” Mary Margaret said when they entered the kitchen. “Coffee's in the pot.”

“I'll get it,” Killian volunteered, giving Emma a moment with her mother. He filled two mugs, sweetening Emma's the way she liked. This was the most informal he'd ever seen the Nolans; it was a little offputting. He liked his in laws; he just wasn't used to seeing them so...casual. But they seemed like any other family on Christmas morning.

“I hope you're hungry,” David said, flipping some French toast. “Christmas breakfast is the meal of the day.”

“Is it?” Killian asked, cocking his head.

David nodded. “Yeah. We usually spend the afternoon and evening at one of the shelters, fixing meals.”

“Ah.” Would they be expected to participate? Killian wasn't opposed to charity work but he'd selfishly been hoping to spend the evening with Emma. And those bloody paps still followed them around which was annoying in the extreme.

“Don't worry,” David chuckled. “I got Mary Margaret let you guys stay home. While she would love the extra publicity, you and Emma should forge your own traditions.”

Killian stopped, two mugs in his hands. He was touched by David's sentiments. This was his daughter—his only child—they were talking about. “Thanks. That means a lot to me. Emma as well.”

“What means a lot?” Emma asked, taking her mug from him. She looked curiously from her father to her husband. “What's going on?”

“I was just telling Killian about how we usually spend Christmas day,” David replied.

“Oh. Right.” She looked a bit sheepish, like she'd forgotten. She'd worked so hard to put her socialite life behind her...she really had forgotten.

“You're off the hook,” Mary Margaret chimed in, sipping her tea. “Thanks to your father.”

“No, we can...” Emma began.

“It's already decided,” David said firmly. “As I was telling Killian, the two of you are family now. You should find your own way to celebrate.”

Emma smiled and leaned in to kiss her dad's cheek. “You're the best.”

David smiled fondly down at her. “I'm just looking out for my baby girl. Now shoo so I can finish breakfast!”

Everyone laughed. Emma and Killian took their coffee and wandered through the family area of the loft, settling in front of the massive tree. Killian wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. “That's a lot of presents,” Killian observed.

“I guess it is.” It struck Emma how much different this probably was from Christmases past for him. “Did your family have any traditions?”

He stared into the hearth for a long minute. “One of us always played Santa,” he said quietly. “Handing out the gifts and such. And Mum had this special pie should would bake. I can't remember precisely what was in it though.”

Emma reached up and squeezed the hand on her shoulder, offering what comfort she could. The deaths of his mother and Liam would always hurt, she knew that. Killian kissed her temple lovingly. “Maybe we can figure it out and make it next year.”

“I'd like that, love.”

“Would you mind if I played Santa?”

“I think you'd be a wonderful Santa, Swan.” She smiled up at him, laying her mostly empty mug aside. She cupped his cheek and eased him down for a kiss, sweet and gentle. Killian tightened his arms around her, letting himself get lost in her kiss. The ache in his heart where his mother and Liam were eased when he was holding her, especially today.

They had to break apart when Mary Margaret announced breakfast, but they were smiling when they returned to the kitchen. Killian half expected the meal to be served in the formal dining room, but once again the Nolans surprised him. They gathered in a corner of the massive kitchen, breakfast nook piled high with food. They settled around it and tucked in, Emma's parents regaling Killian with stories of Christmases past.

Killian didn't bother to hide his grin; for the first time in many years, he felt part of a family.

After breakfast, everyone headed into the family room. “Okay, everyone have a seat, I'm going to be Santa,” Emma announced. Her parents looked at her skeptically but did as she asked. She managed to find a spare Santa hat and plopped it on her head at a jaunty angle. Killian just grinned at her as she reached for her first presents. “Mom, this is for you.”

Mary Margaret accepted the gift and tore into it. It was a beautifully framed photo of Emma and Killian on the bow of the _Jolly Roger_ out on the open sea. “This is lovely!” she said, blinking back tears. “Thank you both.” Spontaneously, she bounced up and hugged Emma, then Killian. “I know just where to put this.”

Emma handed her father a gift next; it was from his wife, a brand new set of cuff links. Leaving David to give his thanks, Emma grabbed a small box and handed it to Killian. She thought she knew what was inside it, but it wasn't from her.

Killian looked curiously at his gift then tore it open. Inside was a small ornament, made of chrome and silver. It was shaped like an ocean wave and had  _Killian_ engraved on it. “That's from us,” Mary Margaret said, handing Killian and Emma each other similarly sized box. “Emma knows this, but we have a tradition in this family. Everyone has their own ornament on the tree. Generations of my family are remembered at the holidays. The ornament that you have, Killian, will go on this tree.” She pointed. “The ones in the boxes are for you to take home with you, for your own tree in years to come.”

Killian looked down at the finely crafted ornament, tracing his name with the pad of his finger. He could feel Emma's smile; had she known about this? Finally, he looked up at his mother in law, a bit overwhelmed. “Thank you,” he said simply. He stood up and hugged her, touched by her gift.

“Go hang it,” she urged, releasing him. “We'll wait.”

Killian nodded at her and walked over to the tree. He saw what she meant; there were a lot of engraved ornaments. Most of the names he didn't recognize. But he did find Emma's, a delicate thing shaped like a small crown. He hung his beside it; it was where he belonged after all.

David offered him a clap on the shoulder when he returned, then the moment passed. Emma returned to handing out gifts, not waiting for people to open them. She found a few of her own, making a small pile for herself. Crumpled wrapping paper and ribbons found their way to the floor as the family ripped open gift after gift. Emma's favorite gift was the emerald bracelet and matching earrings Killian got her; when she thanked him he murmured how much they reminded him of her eyes. She kissed him soundly, right there in front of her parents, again thankful they were going to have the loft to themselves that night.

After cleaning up, Mary Margaret insisted they all watch  _It's a Wonderful Life_ , her favorite Christmas movie. Killian's was  _Christmas Vacation_ but didn't think that was very appropriate with Emma's parents around. Still, it was worth it, as Emma snuggled into his side, tucking her feet under her.

They ate a late lunch, then David and Mary Margaret left to get ready for their outing. Killian found  _Christmas Vacation_ on the pay per view, once more settling in to watch. The pair of them laughed until their sides ached, barely noticing when her parents took their leave.

It was the laziest Christmas Emma had ever had, just laying about watching movies with Killian. They were stretched out on the couch, Emma laying on top of him as  _Die Hard_ played on the big TV. “I always forget this is a Christmas movie,” she mumbled into his chest.

He laughed. “I'm surprised you've seen it, Swan.”

She swatted his chest. “Hey! It's not like I grew up on a space station. Elsa and I used to love watching these kind of movies.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Action movies were our go to when one of us had boy trouble.”

He stroked her hair. “Ah.” He paused, thinking. “Wait...does that mean...?”

She nodded. “That big fight we had? Yeah. Lots of Indiana Jones, buddy.”

“Well, at least you have good taste,” he joked. That fight felt like a lifetime ago, but it was merely the beginning of their adventure together. “I'm sorry, love.”

“For what?”

“Anything I've done lately that I've not apologized for,” he said, rubbing her back. She practically purred against him, nuzzling his chest.

“Can't...ugh...think of anything,” she replied, kissing his scruffy cheek.

“Ugh?”

“That feels nice.”

“And merits an 'ugh'?”

“I said it feels _nice.”_

Realization dawned on him. “Ah. So I should continue then?”

“Please.” She did still have his surprise, but she was enjoying his lazy touches. His hands slid under her turtleneck, rubbing lazy circles into her skin. They ignored the movie completely, sharing more slow deep kisses. She could spend days just kissing him. He was that good.

“Bloody hell, Swan,” he mumbled, nipping at her lobe. “Do you really want me to fuck you on your parents' couch?”

Emma shivered. The idea was appealing, but she had other plans. “Rain check?”

“Emma...”

She put a finger to his lips. “Only because I have something better for you. Remember?”

He pressed his fingers into her spine. “Have I been good enough, love?”

She rubbed her hips over his half hard cock, earning her a groan. “I think so. Bedroom?”

She didn't even have time to breathe; he carried her there, legs wrapped snugly around his hips. He knew the way well enough that he could kiss her as he walked, thankful the loft was all one level. Emma mewled as he squeezed her ass, nipping sharply at his pouting lower lip. “Can't wait to see my present,” he whispered huskily in her ear. “Can I guess?”

Emma ground her hips into his, teasing them both. “Shoot.”

“Is it a toy?”

She smiled. “No, but I can put that on the list for your birthday.”

“New lingerie?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“You naked and wanting?”

“Hmm, close. If you play your cards right.”

“That's always the greatest present, lass. You're all a man needs.”

“Well, I only want one.”

He kneaded her ass. “Too right. Mine.”

She shivered. “Oh yes.” She kissed him hard, desire zipping through her. Part of her was tempted to just say the hell with it and let him have her, but she'd called in a favor for this present. She wanted him to enjoy unwrapping her. “May I go get it now?”

“Please.” He kissed her one last time and gently put her down. That didn't stop him from swatting her ass as she walked away, ducking first into the closet, then the bathroom. He paced the room like a caged animal, waiting for her to emerge.

Emma stripped in record time, slowing only long enough to remove her swan necklace. The outfit came with a shiny unitard but she ditched that for high cut satin panties and a strapless bra. Both red, of course. She slipped on the glittery silver shoes then added the top; it was long sleeved, red, trimmed in white fur. It ticked her neck and the tops of her breasts, but she looked fantastic. Carefully, she piled her golden tresses on top of her head and completed the look with the Santa hat. Her only makeup was deep red lipstick, which would be gone in minutes anyway.

She did a turn in front of the mirror and pronounced herself pleased. Killian wouldn't know what hit him.

What the hell was taking so long? He thought about going to knock on the bathroom door when he heard it open. When he turned around, his jaw dropped in sheer shock.

Emma was dressed like a bloody Rockette.

Her legs were already long and lean; the outfit made them look even better. The Santa aspect of the outfit amused him greatly; hadn't he said she'd make a great Santa? This wasn't what he meant at the time, but she was utterly perfect. “Wow.”

She smirked at him, turning slowly so he could get the full effect. “What do you think?”

He stepped closer. “You look... _amazing_ , Emma.”

She put her hands on her hips, stepping closer, wanting to meet him halfway. “You really think so?”

They were only inches apart now; Killian reached out and lightly fingers the white ruff. “You not only look good enough to  _be_ a bloody Rockette, I almost don't want to take this off you.”

She pouted. “Not what I was going for,” she mock complained.

He ran his finger up over the exposed skin of her chest. “Oh but love, the  _anticipation_ makes it worth it, don't you think? If I just tore this off you, we wouldn't get to use it again.”

“Again?” Her voice came out slightly breathless; it was hard to focus on simple things like speaking when she could see the lust burning in his eyes.

“The best presents just keep on giving, darling.”

She thought for a moment that he'd kiss her...but then his head drifted to her left. His warm soft lips caressed her cheek, her jaw, the sensitive place under her ear. Her knees wobbled; Killian slipped his hands around her back. Emma leaned back in his hold, her heart rate increasing with every gentle brush of his mouth. He licked her fluttering pulse, sucked on the skin greedily. Her hands moved at last, gripping his biceps in an effort to hold herself up. Her heels meant he didn't have to bend as far to suckle her pale skin and she paid for it. He bathed her throat and upper chest with kisses and love bites until she was whimpering constantly.

Slowly, Killian backed them to the bed, her heels clacking on the floor. “Lay back.”

Emma did as she was bid; she could hardly stand on her own anyway, so weak was she with desire. Her panties were already soaked through and he'd hardly touched her. But that was just Killian. Their bodies were so attuned that the briefest touch could set her body alight. He arranged her on the bed, long legs spread wide, giving him room to maneuver.

Killian stripped off his shirt and loosened his pants, sighing in relief. He kissed the inside of Emma's thighs as he stroked himself, knowing that turned her on. Right on cue she whimpered. “See something you like?”

“Your cock,” she said clearly.

“Good things come to those who wait, lass.”

“Are you gonna tease me all night?”

“I thought you liked watching, Swan.”

She propped herself up on her elbows. “Feel how wet I am, Killian. How much I need your cock in me.”

He groaned; he loved when she asked for what she wanted. Hearing dirty things on those pouting lips just made him want her more. He slipped two fingers under her panties, over her slick flesh. “Bloody fuck. You are soaked. Are you that desperate?”

“Not desperate,” she corrected. “Just horny as hell.”

“There are many ways to make you come.”

“So what are you waiting for, sailor?”

He surged forward and kissed her lips, relishing her surprised moan. He pulled back and lifted one leg to his lips. He kissed her ankle, her shin, the sensitive place just behind her knee. He repeated this on the other leg, taking long licks of her flesh. Emma gripped the headboard for support as he got closer and closer to her warm center, moaning long and loud as he licked over the ruined satin. “Love this fucking color on you,” he whispered. “So fucking sexy, Swan.”

She mewled, her hat finally falling off. She didn't care as he was finally stripping her panties off. Down her legs they went, then they were gone with a casual flick of his wrist. He grinned at her lecherously before laying flat for his favorite game.

Emma grabbed the rungs tighter as Killian blew cool air onto her soaked folds. He kissed her bare mound, her clit, lightly tongued her dripping hole. Then he lifted her up by the ass and just started  _devouring_ her, licking and sucking and eating at her like a man starved. Emma cried out as her body tensed, her first orgasm slamming into her embarrassingly fast. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Killian merely hummed, pausing only long enough to catch his breath. Then he started again. She was still quivering from the first but he pushed on, working her up slowly, savoring her taste. Lashing her clit with his tongue, teasing her hole, tongue fucking her. He pushed two fingers into her, then a third; she bucked into his touch. He whispered about how hot this was, how he lived to make her come, how much he needed to fuck her. Before she knew it, she was falling apart again, sweat soaking her costume.

“Satisfied yet, sweetheart?”

“No!” she cried, catching a glimpse of his red and throbbing cock. It had been too many days since they could indulge like this and she needed him.

“What do you want?”

She looked him in the eye. “Cock. Inside me. Now.”

“God, I love how greedy you are, how much you crave my cock.” He shoved his pants down and kicked them away. His cock strained, bobbing proudly against his stomach. Then he went to strip off the red and white top, quickly followed by the bra. He gave her breasts a brief suck, which made her buck under him.

Emma got tired of waiting so she deftly flipped them over. She straddled his hips, rubbing her slick flesh over his thick cock. “Fuck,” she moaned.

“You are an impatient thing,” he said, hands running up her thighs. Emma kicked away her shoes then moved to plant her feet on the bed. “Oh bloody hell.” He took his cue, lifting his cock and finding her wet hole. Emma sank down, squatting over him, up, down, up, down, slowly at first, their moans of pleasure filling the room. He could see everything, especially his cock coated in her juices as she rode him.

Emma braced her hands on the bed, back between his legs. All her yoga was paying off now; they were still learning, still trying new things, and she needed all her flexibility for this. But this was what she'd been wanting all day, the feel of him sliding thickly inside her. Her arms shook with the effort to hold herself up but she went as long as she could; he hit her deep, just the way she liked.

“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” he murmured, hand coming up to flick her clit. Emma bucked against him, crying out in pleasure. Killian grinned and pressed harder; she whimpered with need.

“I...can't,” she panted, arms shaking.

Killian let her go long enough to push himself up, wrapping strong arms around her hips. “Yes, you can. You ride me so good, lass. Such a hot tight cunt. Let me see you come, Emma.”

She bit her lip, thighs straining with the effort. But she fought through it, her orgasm so, so close. Then he angled her hips just right and she exploded, bucking wildly in his hold as she screamed her climax. She was still coming when he flipped them over again, plunging his cock back inside her, fucking her hard and fast, chasing his own high. Emma clawed at his back; god, she loved when he lost control this way, claiming her with his body. He came with a sharp cry, pulsing wetly inside her. He was so deep, she felt it and it made her shiver. She had done that to him.

Killian collapsed unceremoniously on top of her; Emma didn't protest. She was trying to catch her breath, regain some semblance of self. Eventually, Killian rolled off, the chilly air coming into contact with her damp skin.

Killian recovered first, raising his head to sweetly kiss her brow. Emma could hardly move and he smiled. He ducked into the bathroom and cleaned himself up, returning to Emma with a washcloth. She took it and cleaned herself up, handing it back to him. “Thanks.”

“This is not a chore, my love.” He threw the washcloth in the hamper, then went to pick up their clothes, tossing those into the hamper as well. He carefully hung up Emma's costume; the panties were likely ruined, but they could buy more. By the time he returned, Emma was buried deep under the covers, half asleep. He chuckled and climbed in after her. “Nap?”

She snuggled beside him. “Maybe a little one.”

“Aye, we should eat something before turning in for the night.”

“We could order Chinese.”

“On Christmas?”

“Why not? They're open.”

“If the lass wishes.”

“Nap first.”

Killian glanced at the clock. “Hmm, an hour. Then I insist you eat.”

“Promise.” When she didn't add anything he assumed she was asleep. “Killian?”

“Aye, love?”

“What it a good Christmas?”

He chuckled low. “A very good Christmas, Emma. The best I've had in a very long time. Thank you for everything.”

She smiled sleepily. “I'm glad. Love you.”

“Love you too,” he replied, kissing her head. “Rest now.” He held her close as she dropped off, thoroughly content.

 


	19. Outtake 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four months after the epilogue, Emma has some very happy news for her husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gift to combat all the recent angst!

Emma lit the candle, surprised her hand was shaking. She shook it off and went back into the kitchen. Killian was working late on an experiment, promising he'd be home soon. Emma hadn't minded, wanting to make the evening special. She still had trouble believing this was happening, but the four tests she'd taken weren't lying.

She was pregnant.

They'd only recently decided to start _trying_ for a family, after six months of marriage. Her mother worried it was too fast, but Emma couldn't resist the idea of seeing a mini version of her Killian running around their condo. Besides, NORI was going well and they were happy. 

Still, she was a little surprised it happened this quickly.

She'd been ill off and on for about two weeks when it occurred to her that she was late. And Emma was never late. Elsa liked to tease her about it. In fact, Elsa had been her first call when she thought she  _might_ pregnant and her best friend immediately drove over and together they'd bought a handful of tests. Emma then proceeded to drink enough water to sate a horse and took them one by one. Each of them were positive.

Emma was a bit embarrassed to admit she'd had a tiny freak out at first. She'd paced the bathroom, worries spilling from her lips while Elsa did her best to calm her. Getting pregnant had seemed like a good idea in the abstract, but now that she was...it was scary. In the big frightening “I want my mom” kind of way. This would change her— _their_ —whole life and it seemed a  _lot_ scarier now, being responsible for a little person growing inside her belly.

However, Emma knew she had to tell Killian first. She had to see his face, want him to be happy about it. It would be a lot less terrifying knowing he would be there for their child, for her. But she had to actually  _tell_ him and that was scary as hell.

Killian unlocked the door to their condo and stepped through it. He kicked off his shoes and set his satchel on the floor. “Emma? Something smells good!”

“Kitchen!”

He followed his nose, finding Emma standing over the stove, stirring something. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. “Hello, love.”

Emma felt calmer the instant he touched her. There was just something about him that soothed her, grounded her. She could do this. “Hey sailor.”

“To what do I owe the honor? I didn't miss an anniversary, did I?”

Emma laughed. “We haven't been married long enough for that.”

He laid his head on her shoulder. “You know, sometimes I still have trouble wrapping my mind around that fact. You  _married_ me, Swan.”

She put her wooden spoon down and turned in his arms. He looked adorably boyish, hair wind blown, blue eyes bright with wonder. She gently touched his face, heart swelling with love for this man, the father of her child, love of her life. 

“Emma?”

“Shh.” She leaned in and kissed him; it felt like coming home after a long time apart, even though she'd seen him that morning. She knew everything would be fine. “How about you go wash up and I'll serve dinner. Then we can talk. I want to hear all about this experiment.”

Killian looked a bit skeptical but did as she bid. He'd noticed her a bit out of sorts recently, but she'd assured him she was fine. His department was working on a particularly difficult brand of foam used in some of the newer surfboards; Killian had a suspicion they weren't as environmentally sound as advertised. He'd been running many of the tests himself; his department really needed at least two more people, but he hadn't wanted to ask Emma. They were still starting out, had yet to break even in a single month. Emma told him this was normal for a start up company but he resolved to do all in his power to make things easier.

Hands clean, he headed back to the dining room. The table was laid out formally, candles lit and everything. His suspicion that something was going on only increased. “Emma, love, what is going on?”

“I can't make a nice meal for my husband?”

He let out a little huff. “That's not what I meant. You know I would never just  _expect_ it from you, lass. And I like when we cook together.”

Emma smiled. “I do, too. But I knew you'd be late and I wanted to do something nice.”

He moved to hug her. “Thank you, Swan. I'll return the favor soon, I promise.”

Emma sighed happily. “See, this is why I love you so much.”

“My devilishly handsome face?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, silly. Although it is a perk.” He smirked at her. “Because you can just accept everything about me. No questions asked.”

He touched her cheek. “And I always will, my love.” The moment broke and they sat down to eat. She made his favorite in an effort to sweeten the news but was pleasantly surprised to see how hungry  _she_ was. She insisted Killian tell her all about his work; it distracted her from her nerves. Not to mention the science things she picked up from him helped her out when she was talking with investors and the like. 

Salad, breadsticks, chicken Parmesan were all devoured steadily. He helped her clean up but she insisted he take a seat so she could get dessert. She brought out two cupcakes piled high with icing and handed him a wrapped box.

“A gift?” Killian asked, perplexed. “It's not my birthday, Swan.”

“I know. It's next month.” She bit her lip, the nerves creeping up on her again. She thought the mug would be a good way to tell him without needing to actually say the words. “Humor me?”

His brows knitted but he nodded. He tore open the paper and pried off the lid of the box. There, wrapped in light blue tissue, lay a ceramic coffee mug. Which was odd considering they had a dozen in various shapes and sizes. He plucked it out of the tissue and his jaw dropped.  _World's Best Dad._

Emma watched his face, finger tapping on her knee. “Killian?”

He shook his head to clear it, realizing he must look like a guppy fish. His heart was beating a mile a minute. “Emma...are you...? Are we...?”

Smiling nervously, she nodded. “Yeah. You're gonna be a dad, Killian.”

He almost dropped the bloody mug in his haste to get to her. Emma screeched in surprise as he picked her up and spun her around. Her cries melted into laughter when he put her down and crushed her to his chest. Happiness, sheer  _joy_ , threatened to overwhelm him. Then he abruptly let go, suddenly afraid he was hurting her. “Sorry, love,” he said hurriedly. “Are you alright? I didn't hurt you?”

She shoved his shoulder. “Of course not. I'm not suddenly made of glass, you know.”

Killian bit his lip, resting a hand on her belly. “This is going to take some getting used to, lass.”

She covered his hand with hers. “Me too. But you're...happy?”

He chuckled, nodding. “Emma, I am ecstatic. Granted, I didn't expect it to happen quite this soon...”

“Tell me about it.”

He hugged her close. “I love you, Emma. I am thrilled to be having this family with you.” He kissed her temple, her cheek, her lips. Emma held him tight, reaffirming her love for him in turn. Cupcakes forgotten, they headed for the living room, curling up together on the couch. “How long have you known?”

“Just today. I suspected and called Elsa.”

“Oh.”

“Are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because Elsa knew first?”

Killian shook his head. “Elsa's practically your sister, love. She's family. Does anyone else know?”

“No. I wanted to tell you first. But I want to call Mom first thing in the morning. It was a little scary when I saw all those positive tests and all I wanted was to talk to her. And you.”

Killian gave her a reassuring squeeze. Emma's relationship with her mother had improved so much since the wedding, despite the distance. It made his heart happy to see her that way. Everyone needed family. “I'm here, Swan. I'll be with you every step of the way.”

Emma laid her head over his heart. “I know you will. I've got an appointment at the end of the week. You know, to confirm it and everything? You'll come?”

“Of course. There's nowhere else for me to be.” He hadn't really had a father growing up, he was determined to be there for his own child. And having a child with the love of his life? Greatest feeling in the world. Why would anyone walk away from that?

Emma stretched out over his chest, sighing as his arms came around her. “You know, in a few months, we won't be able to do this. I'll be as big as a house.”

“But you'll still take my breath away.”

“Yeah, we'll see.”

“Swan, you're the mother of my child. The most beautiful woman I know. That won't change.”

“You say that now.”

“And I mean it. Whatever challenges this pregnancy brings, we'll face them together.” Gently, he rubbed her back, long strokes of her spine. Emma wanted to argue some more, tease him on his self assurance but she couldn't resist his touch. It wasn't long before she was practically purring in his arms, head nuzzling his chest, fingers deftly plucking at the buttons of his shirt to expose more skin.

“Emma,” Killian whispered, holding his breath a little. She was moving against him, slow rolls of her hips, and it was _affecting_ him. She always affected him; little more than a crook of her finger and he was hers, willing to engage in whatever activity she wished. And she had an imagination, his Swan. He never knew what she'd dream up next. 

“Hmm?”

“Nothing?”

She raised her head. “Liar.”

“What do you want me to say, lass? That I want to make love to my wife? Right here and right now?”

“That's a good start,” she said, offering him a slow grin. “You know, I read that sex can be a _necessity_ while pregnant.”

Killian swallowed. “You did?”

“Uh huh. And often times sex is as much of a craving as weird foods.”

Now he cocked a brow at her. “Is that right? Well, I suppose I shall have to do my best to keep milady satisfied.”

“You generally do.”

He scowled. “Only generally? I'm wounded, Swan.”

She looked contrite and pressed a kiss to his breastbone. “Well, then maybe I should make it up to you.”

His hand came up to tangle in her hair. “Perhaps you should, Mrs. Jones.”

Emma shivered, his low seductive tone rumbling right through her as she lay on his chest. She scooted up, hand slipping under his shirt as she slanted her lips over his. Killian sighed into her kiss, cradling her head. Their lips moved in a slow dance they had long since perfected. Killian's other hand pulled on her blouse, yanking it from her pants so he could stroke her back.

“How am I doing so far?” Emma asked, lips ghosting along his jaw.

“Fair, I'd say,” he teased, unclasping her bra. Together, they stripped off her top, then his, maneuvering to stretch out on their sides. They'd bought this couch with this activity in mind; Emma had lost count how many times they'd made love there. It was possible the child she carried was conceived in this very spot. She hitched her leg over his hip, kissing him deeply.

“Oh yes,” she gasped, his clever fingers plucking deliciously on her nipples. She might have been imagining things, but she'd swear they were a bit more sensitive, responsive to his touch. A low cry fell from her lips when he bent to suck, tongue lashing at the hard peak.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered into her skin. Switching places so Emma was on her back, Killian reverently kissed her belly, the place where their child was growing inside her. Loving Emma was the greatest thing he'd ever done with his life and now they were bringing a new life into the world. It was enough to move him to tears.

Emma saw a single tear slide down his cheek and she brushed it away with her thumb. “I know,” she murmured. “I feel it too.” She smiled as her husband surged back up to kiss her, slipping effortlessly between her thighs. They made out for a long time, in no hurry despite the ache building in her core. Chest hair rubbed her nipples; she ground her hips into his.

“Bloody hell, lass,” Killian bit out, her nails digging into his back.

“Need you,” she whined. “God.”

“Patience.” He left a parting kiss to her lips and sat up. He slipped off the pants of her business suit, underwear and all, leaving her entirely nude. He had to pause and admire her; she was just as alluring as she was the very first time they made love. “Look at you, all pink and wet for me.”

Emma groaned; she loved when he talked dirty to her. “Killian...”

“You're making things up to me,” he reminded her. “So I'm in charge now, Swan.”

“Ugh, just get on with it!”

Rather than answer her, he urged her to sit up. He knelt on the floor between her splayed thighs and kissed each one, rubbing his scruff against the delicate skin. Emma mewled, wetting her lips. She watched him inch closer and closer to her sex, deliberately teasing her. Since he knew her body better than she did, he had little trouble getting her to beg. She cried out in relief when _finally_ put his mouth on her, favoring her with long licks of his talented tongue. Emma gripped the back of the couch as he lifted her legs onto his shoulders to better devour her. “Fuck!”

“God, I love your taste,” he growled, lapping at her entrance. She was soaking, always so wet and perfect for him. He was quite convinced she was _made_ with him in mind. There was no other way to explain the intense attraction they had, the constant need to touch. “Shall I make you come?”

“Yes! Yes, please!”

Killian chuckled and the vibrations made her moan loudly. He slid one digit into her heat, fingering her, mouth sucking on her clit. Emma exploded, bucking up against his mouth, molten fire racing through her. Killian drew it out, slowing bringing her down, stroking her under she stopped shaking.

“Did that satisfy you, love?”

Emma could hardly open her eyes, so she shook her head. It was one hell of an orgasm, but it still felt hollow. She only felt complete when he was inside her. “Not quite.”

“Really? What do you need?”

This time she did open her eyes. “You. Inside me.”

He offered her cocky smile, then patted her thigh. “Up on your knees, love.”

Emma shivered as she did as he bid. There was a mirror behind the couch, on the far wall. During their trip to Honolulu so many months ago, they'd discovered how much Emma enjoyed watching. They took that into consideration when decorating their condo. To everyone else the mirrors were pieces of art, but to them, they were a kink to be indulged in often. Emma braced her arms on the back of the couch, watching as Killian stripped behind her.

He could feel her eyes on him, on his reflection. So he took his time discarding socks and pants and boxers. When he was finished he locked eyes with her in the mirror, hand wrapped around his cock. “Hmm, shall I spank you or just fuck you?”

Emma inhaled sharply at the word “spank.” She really enjoyed that too. “Please?”

“Please what?”

“Both. I want you to spank me.”

He laid his hands on her pert bottom, squeezing a little. He adored the way Emma owned her sexuality, knowing exactly what she wanted. Then asking for it. “Very well.” He didn't waste time going to fetch her paddle (a six months married gift), instead striking her with his bare hand. The sharp crack echoed in the room and Emma moaned. Pleasure rolled through her with every slap, her skin hot and stinging. Arousal coated her thighs, every strike winding her up higher. She was whimpering when he finished, soothing her skin with gentle kisses. Emma was too needy for gentle, too desperate for him to take her.

“Please, please, please,” she whispered softly, over and over.

Killian tested her readiness; she was practically dripping onto his fingers. He lined himself up and took her hard and fast, grunting as an unmistakable orgasm gripped her. She fluttered wildly along his length, Emma crying out. He grit his teeth, trying to hold on to himself, wanting to make this good for them both. When she calmed, he moved, taking her with slow steady thrusts, hands sliding up her back.

“Oh my god,” Emma groaned, back arching. The long slide of him along her sensitive walls felt incredible and it wasn't long before she was moving too, sliding back as he came forward.

“That's it, love,” he murmured encouragingly. “Fuck my cock, take what you want.” He wove one hand into her hair, stilling himself so she could rock onto him. He watched them in the mirror, cock hardening further at the sight of his Emma lost in pleasure, taking what she needed from his body.

Emma spread her knees a little more, taking him even deeper inside her. She mewled in pleasure, another climax coiling deep in her belly. “Ugh, feels so good, Killian.”

“I know, lass.” He bent over next to her ear. “Look at us, darling. Watch yourself fuck. Bloody gorgeous, you are.”

Emma looked up into the mirror, unconsciously licking her lips. Her pupils were blown, hair a mess, cheeks flushed, lips kiss swollen. Killian stood behind her, tall and strong, mouth slightly open, reveling in the way she rode him. He grinned at her and moved, hands back in her hair. She groaned when he tugged slightly, rocking his hips just a tad harder. “Oh god.”

“Could fuck you all night,” he muttered. “So warm, love.”

“Killian...I need...fuck, I need to come.”

“As you wish.” He reached down and found her clit, rubbing it in time with his strokes. Emma gripped the couch tighter, mewling at every rough thrust of his hips. The pressure built and built; she could feel every sharp stab of his thick cock. She started trembling, just on the cusp of release, breathing ragged and then just as suddenly she was gone, eyes squeezed shut, wave after wave rolling through her. Killian gripped her hips, trying to hold her steady as he chased his own high. It came in a wave of color, his whole body shaking as he emptied himself in her still fluttering heat.

Emma sagged, panting, head falling to the back of the couch. If Killian wasn't holding her, she would have collapsed. Three orgasms close together had sapped her strength. She would never taunt him about not satisfying her again. Or maybe she would, since he was so good at it.

Killian kissed right between her shoulder blades, whispering his love for her. She hummed in acknowledgment, still not able to form whole thoughts, let alone words. He laid her out on the couch and went to fetch her a cloth. They got her cleaned up, then Killian spooned her from behind. “Alright, love?”

Weakly, Emma nodded. “Mmhmm.”

“Tired?”

“Maybe a little. I'm good.”

He kissed her shoulder, hand sliding over her belly. “And this one?”

Emma laughed. “I'm sure they're fine too.”

“That's good to hear. I still can't believe this is real.”

She threaded their fingers over her stomach. “Me neither. But we're gonna be parents, Killian.”

“I can't wait to meet him. Or her,” he added hastily.

“We've never talked about it,” she said thoughtfully. “Do you want a boy or a girl?”

“Honestly, I hadn't considered. As long as you both are healthy and happy, I will be too.”

Emma twisted so she could face him. “I think I want a boy.”

“You do? May I ask why?”

She shrugged. “Not sure. It's just what I pictured when we started talking about it. A mini you.”

He snorted. “Sure you could handle that, Swan?”

“I handle you, don't I?”

He kissed her brow. “Too right you do.”

Emma snuggled deeper into his arms. She was safe and happy there; she knew their child would be too. And loved. She couldn't imagine a child being more loved than theirs. “I love you, Killian.”

“I love you, too, Emma. And you, little one.”

They remained there until the room got chilly, then padded back to their bedroom. They talked about cute things like baby names and nurseries and toys until they both fell asleep.

 


End file.
